A Celtic Heart
by Alisha Ashton
Summary: Cordelia/Doyle, Post-Hero-Resurrection Angel and Cordelia are dealing with the loss of Doyle...but their grieving takes a turn when an unexpected visitor arrives with a message from the dearly departed. This is another fic to bring Doyle home ;D
1. Chapter 1

**INTRODUCTION:**

I don't own Angel/Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any of their characters/concepts. I'm simply taking them out and playing with them for your amusement and not getting paid to do so - in other words, DON'T SUE! haha The stuff that isn't from either of these shows is original and belongs to me - in other words, DON'T STEAL! :D

This one delves heavily into the grief felt by Angel and Cordelia as they struggle to deal with Doyle's death; I highly recommend keeping tissues handy for the first few chapters (and that's just for Angel's inner reflections alone – maybe keep a paper bag to breathe into for the parts with him and Cordy talking).

Set just after Doyle's death with new twists. My standard pro-Doyle rule of post-Hero-resurrection-fanfiction applies; meaning: **"_Expecting_" never happened**, let's not get me started on how epically made of FAIL the decision to go forward with that episode so soon after "Hero" was.

*_BadGirl proceeds to Gibbs-slap the writers_*

**Note:** I am _heavily_ influenced by music when I write – if I include a song title/artist at the beginning or at a climactic point of a chapter I recommend that you go to YouTube or PlaylistCom and listen to the songs while you read. It will add to the experience immeasurably. Listening to the tracks will be especially crucial for Chapters 1 & 3 so you should get them ready to play before reading.

There will be tears, angst, fluff, comedy and (as if I would let you down) there will be a satisfying happy ending once all is said and done.

So without further ado, I present another scenario for how we can undo the loss of Doyle. We're going to "Take It Back".

* * *

**CHAPTER 1**

**  
MUSIC:**  
"Memories" by Within Temptation  
"Hurt" by Christina Aguilera

* * *

Angel stood outside the door, chewing the inside of his cheek, staring down at the handle with tear-filled eyes as memories replayed in his mind. He'd been here for five minutes already, unable to move forward, unable to reach out, unable to take another step.

"_The good fight, yeah? You never know until you've been tested…I get that now."_

Hearing Doyle's voice resounding in his mind caused him to draw in a sharp breath, pain rising steadily from the knot in his stomach and settling in the lump that had been in his throat for the past three days. His eyes closed and the vision of Doyle leaping onto that light, sacrificing himself for them and countless strangers, earning his place as a hero after enduring unimaginable anguish haunted him for the thousandth time. He reached out and gripped the door frame blindly as the sound of that last agonized scream reverberated through his memories, his breaths coming in fast bursts as the grief fractured his motionless heart inside his chest all over again. _How could he help people, protect them when he couldn't even protect Doyle?_

Death wasn't something new, he was closer to it than most are to family; it was a part of him through and through. He'd lost people hundreds of times, should be used to it by now…but this was proving to be something unique. This time it was affecting him _so _deeply he had difficulty concealing it. He figured it was Doyle getting his way after all was said and done; he'd wanted Angel to be more human…to open up…to _feel_…now he couldn't seem to turn it off.

Aside from Buffy and now Cordelia, Doyle was the only person he had ever allowed himself to truly care for. Buffy was his heart, his deepest love, the woman he would have given it all to marry and have a normal life with. Cordelia was like a beloved little sister; the way she looked up to him, needed his protection from the darkness in the world and felt safe enough around him to be her childlike self instilled eternal love and devotion in him. She reminded him that he could be a good person despite it all, hearing her laugh and seeing her smile were the only rewards he got for his efforts. It was enough to keep him going.

But _Doyle_…

Angel held onto the door frame for support, gritting his teeth as the grief cut him deeper still; he was squeezing his eyes shut with silent tears streaming down his face. The agony of the loss was nearly crippling, threatening to send him to his knees in the middle of the hallway.

_Doyle_ had been Angel's only friend in the world. He didn't need to be strong for Doyle; he just needed to be himself – someone he'd forgotten how to be. They'd enjoyed spending time together, had spent countless hours in the dimly lit kitchen of Angel's apartment just talking. Some nights the whisky sat unopened on the table between them, other nights it ran dry – all depended on the topic of the evening. Life, love, regrets…they'd let one another in. Doyle's friendship was something Angel hadn't experienced since childhood. He figured the Powers That Be had sent him an Irishman on purpose; hearing that familiar brogue reminded him of the days before he'd been changed – he'd even noticed his old accent slipping out occasionally, his speech patterns and phrases sounding uncannily as they had when he was human. He saw a lot of himself in his wild days when he'd looked at Doyle – the drinking to stop the pain, the detachment from the world. Doyle hadn't realized when he'd come that he needed exactly what he was sent to provide Angel – a link, a connection to others, a light to lead him out of his self-inflicted solitude.

Angel tried to smile through the pain recalling the first time Doyle had seen Cordelia, it only brought on a sob that he quickly muffled with his trembling hand. He'd fallen head over heels for her from that very first snide comment; the memories of his tireless attempts to get her to let him get closer were bittersweet now. Angel's little sister had found someone who could see past her shell of superficiality, someone he approved of and had hoped would have the chance to love her. He couldn't imagine anyone else able to give her the attention she needed, anyone else with such an understanding of why she was so outwardly cold. Both of them were carefully guarded against the world, efforts to protect gentle hearts from further pain. Little by little she'd been letting Doyle in, his smile and humor and adoration seeping through the walls she had spent so long building around herself. He'd refused to pay her attempts to dissuade him any attention, knew there was a sweet girl beneath it all and had been determined to reach her.

_And they'd finally gotten their chance_…

Angel learned during Cordelia's first breakdown that Doyle's demon side had been brought to light just before his death; that they'd finally laid all the cards on the table and had been ready to try at a relationship together. It made the pain somehow worse, if that was possible.

They'd reached the office after sending the Lister demons safely on their way and she'd slipped into shock. She wasn't speaking or crying yet as she turned on the video – her only link to the man she'd finally accepted her love for. By the tenth time she'd watched it Angel tried to get her to turn it off, not wanting her to keep subjecting herself to it – or him since it was breaking his heart.

Cordelia lost it when he reached for the remote, words pouring from her desperately. "Why? _**Why**_, Angel? _Why_ did he have to do it?" She'd screamed with tears streaming down her face. "We talked – I knew what he was and we were going to try. Didn't he _want_ to stay with me? Didn't he really _love_ me? Wasn't I _enough_?"

Angel's jaw dropped as her questions tore at him, sitting beside her and trying to pull her into his arms. She fought him off for a moment, her screams of "_No_, no Angel! _**Nooo**_…" changed to sobs as she brought her fists against his chest.

"I _love_ him; Angel…_why_ isn't that enough? Can't he come back for me? He can't leave me – not now! I just want to be with him…he can't really be _gone_…say it – _tell me_ it's not real…" She pleaded, looking into his eyes as she frantically gripped fistfuls of his shirt.

Angel couldn't speak as tears rolled down his cheeks, he tried to hold her again but she snapped. The knowledge that it was final, that there would be nothing more for them, that she'd never see his smile or learn the comfort of his embrace…hear him calling her '_princess'_ again…they fueled a hysterical rage and sent her to her feet shrieking red-faced.

"Why didn't you _stop_ him? He didn't know any better! Why did you let him do it? Whatever he did in his life wasn't bad enough for him to have to _die_ to make up for! You should have _tried_, Angel! He was your _friend!_ You could have done it faster…it would have been okay…everything would have been _okay_…" Her hand went to her mouth as she let out a long sob, "If he hadn't kissed me he could have been there in time to stop it without dying. Why? _Why_ did he have to _kiss_ _me_, Angel?"

Angel felt dizzy from the pain now, staring at the floor with tear-blurred vision as he fought to speak. Hearing her blaming him was only echoing his own thoughts. "Because he couldn't risk dying without doing it, Cordy; you were the only thing he wanted in his life." He managed in a choked whisper as he looked up at her, it was all he could do to swallow back sobs as he stood and walked to her.

Cordelia clung to him, weeping uncontrollably and slowly collapsing to the floor with him following her, keeping her in his arms as she screamed in mourning. "Doyle…_please_, Doyle…_please…please_…God, _noooo_…" She'd sobbed incoherently against his chest as she hyperventilated. All he could do was hold her as she wept, not moving away until she finally lost consciousness the following morning.

It had been three days since then; he'd gone to the Oracles and begged for Doyle's life in vain, hadn't slept or fed in all that time. The task had been left for him to go and clear out Doyle's place, boxing up his possessions and bringing them back to the office, stacking them in the closet of his bedroom. They'd stay with him for centuries if he had any say in the matter, reminding him of their bond without him having to lift a single cover.

He would still be in his apartment, sitting at the table with the bottle of whisky and two empty shot glasses, staring at the empty chair across from him if not for the need to check on Cordelia. She wasn't answering her phone, didn't respond whenever he came knocking. Every time he would have to let himself in and would find her staring off into space, her eyes red and swollen from the endless tears. Knowing grief intimately he'd brought one of Doyle's shirts for her, had bagged the rest to keep his scent around for when she needed it. She'd clutched it to her chest when he offered it to her, smelling it and curling up with it as she bawled. He couldn't get her to eat or drink, couldn't get her to leave the apartment or speak to him. Seeing her anguish made the emptiness all the more difficult to endure. He couldn't make it better, couldn't protect her from this darkness. She didn't smile or laugh for him anymore, with Doyle's death he'd lost everything he needed in the world.

The door opened slowly and he took a deep breath seeing no one standing behind it. "Thank you, Dennis." He whispered and wiped the tears from his face, entering and listening to the door closing behind him.

No lights were on, the curtains were drawn and air was still – all of the joy seemed to have been sucked from this place just as it had been from their lives. He pushed the door to her bedroom and sighed as he found her sitting up with her knees drawn to her chest, her eyes locked on the window but not seeing it. She looked so pale, dark lines beneath her eyes attesting to the fact that she wasn't sleeping either.

The food he'd left for her the night before sat untouched on her bedside table and he crossed the room, picking up the containers and replacing them with the new ones he'd brought. She didn't bat an eyelash as he sat beside her on the bed; her hand was cold and limp as he took it in his own.

"Cordy…how are you feeling?" He choked out, wincing at the sight of her broken nails and bloodied knuckles from one of her breakdowns.

She turned to face him slowly and he looked up in surprise, it was the most response he'd gotten out of her in days. The anguish he saw in her eyes crushed him but he didn't look away, she was taking a breath as her bottom lip quivered, her nostrils flaring as she steadied herself to tell him something. "_Doyle_…" She whispered and Angel watched her swallow back pain at just saying his name. "He…_gave_ me…" She tried, her voice cracking as Angel squeezed her hand and nodded for her to keep going. "His visions."

Angel's eyes widened in surprise. "What?" He breathed in confusion.

"When he kissed me…he passed his visions to me." Cordy said softly, her eyes welling up all over again. "_That_ was why he did it, Angel. He didn't do it because he _loved _me." Her voice gave out on her, the last part coming in less than a whisper.

"Cordelia…" Angel began with a sigh, looking down at her hand again and shaking his head. "He might not have even known he'd passed them to you…or maybe it was that he trusted you to keep the one thing he had in the world that was worth giving, that he _believed_ in you…but there is nothing I've been so sure of in my entire life than the fact that he was in love with you."

Cordy nodded and closed her eyes; her lips were trembling uncontrollably as tears streamed down her face again.

Angel reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear and putting his hand under her chin. He waited for her to open her eyes, forcing a smile for her before continuing. "Knowing Doyle he probably could have given you those visions by winking at you but used it as a convenient excuse to finally kiss you." Cordelia smiled weakly despite her tears and nodded. "So…do you want to tell me what you saw?" He asked, picking up a notebook and pen from her bedside table and offering them to her.

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**To read is fine, to REVIEW is divine ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

**  
MUSIC:**  
"Witness" by Sarah McLachlan

* * *

As the weeks went on things got a little easier. Wesley had shown up, his presence providing a small distraction from the pain. Cordelia was back to work, though Angel found her staring at the empty place on the couch where Doyle should have been sitting from time to time. He never interrupted her during those moments; had advised Wesley not to touch the newspaper she brought in and placed on the cushions every morning for the man that would never again be there to read it.

It was nearly three weeks after Doyle's passing when they got an unexpected visitor. Wesley had turned from where he'd been trying to swallow a gulp of the foulest coffee he'd ever tasted, smiling and walking over to the man. "Well hello, fine sir. Welcome to Angel Investigations. What can we do for you?" He asked in a nauseatingly cheerful tone. He'd taken over greeting the few clients that walked through their doors. Cordelia had at least passed the point of screaming at people for no reason but she was still far from her carefree self. Being greeted by someone who looked like they were ready to burst into tears at any given moment wasn't exactly good for business.

The man was short, twitchy, dressed in baggy clothes. Pale skin was made all the more jarring by his shaggy, dark hair and severe features. His dark eyes flicked around the office nervously as he stood with his hands stuffed in his pockets. After a moment he finally seemed to work up the courage to speak. "This where Doyle used to work?" He asked hesitantly with a thick New York accent.

Wesley instantly turned back to Cordelia, giving her a worried look as her face fell. He'd learned by now that the "_D_" word brought on at least a two hour session of sobbing and turned toward Angel's door hoping for backup in case she needed him.

Angel had just been walking out of his office and quickly crossed the room as Cordelia turned away and tried to hold back tears. "I'm Angel...and you are?" He held out a hand to the man but watched him stare down at it with obvious distrust. Angel cleared his throat and stood up straight. "Doyle worked here. So you knew him – I'll assume by your question that you're already aware…of…him_ being_…"

"Dead, huh?" The man finished bluntly and Angel flinched. "Yeah, I figured that's who it was." He muttered, shaking his head angrily. "Name's Puck…" He said with a sigh and leaned to the side to look past Angel. "And you, you'd be Doyle's little '_princess'_. Cordy, am I right?"

Cordelia's eyes widened and she grabbed a tissue from the ever present box to blow her nose, trying not to let her sobbing get out of control again hearing the infinitely heartbreaking "_p_" word.

"Why do you ask?" Angel said, crossing his arms over his chest and stepping to the side enough to block her from view as he eyed the stranger appraisingly. Big brother instincts were kicking in and he wasn't taking any chances until he knew why this man was so interested in her.

"I can see why he was so crazy about her." Puck said, nodding in approval before looking up at Angel. "I'm really only here to see her." He tried but Angel simply arched a brow, not letting him move any closer. Puck sighed. "He said you'd probably be like this. Alright, so I known Doyle for a few years now – he was a regular down at the tracks for a long time and…"

Angel cut him off. "What kind of demon are you?" He asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. The man gave all the outward appearance of a human but he could smell it on him, just as he had been able to with Doyle when they'd first met.

Puck bristled at the question, tugging at his shirt indignantly. "Getting awful _personal_, ain't ya? Christ, way to skip the small talk."

"I asked your name first, didn't I?" Angel said, still eyeing Puck impatiently.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other nervously before leaning closer, cupping his mouth and telling Angel with his suddenly low tone that it wasn't a good idea for the answer to get out. "I'm what your kind calls a Sermoporta."

"A _gateway _demon…" Wesley breathed in wonder, ignoring the fact that it hadn't been meant to be repeated and stepping closer, staring at him in awe. "You're an actual Speaker?"

Angel's arms dropped to his sides as his jaw fell open in surprise. "What's he saying? Is he alright? Is he here now? Can he hear us?" He asked quickly and Puck held up his hands.

"Angel?" Cordelia said softly, slowly standing from her desk and eyeing him with concern. Angel cast her a pained look before turning his attention back to the demon in front of him.

"Hey, he's not close enough for all that so just keep your shirt on, will ya? My first indication it was him was when he tried to get my attention last night he knocked over the _vodka_ instead of any of the four bottles of whisky surrounding it. Ain't no other ghost woulda made that decision. Then there was the accent." Puck explained and Angel laughed in astonishment.

Cordelia crossed the room to reach them, staring at Puck with wide, hopeful (if still puffy) eyes.

"_Wow_ – yeah, no wonder he was all about you, girl. How'd he get lucky enough to trick you into liking him? You don't by chance have a blind sister, do ya?" He said with a grin now that she was close enough to get a better look at. "May I?" He asked, pointing to the couch and Angel and Cordy both quickly stepped aside, motioning for him to go right ahead. "Thanks." He said, settling down on a cushion, somehow managing not to disturb the ever-present paper and looking around the office as the other three watched him expectantly. "His soul is pretty deep, like I said; he's not that close now…so he's been gone a few weeks already?" They all nodded. "You mind?" He asked, pulling a cigarette from his coat pocket.

To Angel's surprise, despite how she'd always ragged on Doyle about the smell and _**never**_ allowed it indoors with any of their clients, Cordelia nodded as if he could have asked to borrow her lipstick in that moment with no problem. He lit the cigarette and took a drag, taking a styrofoam cup that Wesley brought for him to flick in and thanking him.

"Well seeing as how he was caught up with the Powers and the visions and what not I'm betting he had some talking to do once he got up there – must have went well if he's out and about. Yeah, them wanting to blabber to him would explain him taking a while to find me, but he ain't passing 'Go' for some reason. I think it's cuz he wanted to make sure I knew he was gone. See the trouble with being a Speaker is not only do you have a price on your head – it makes people around you start thinking about their own mortality. Everyone you know gives you like a _list_ of what to do if they die. Doyle was never one of those guys…was a real _live-in-the-now_ type…least he was till you showed up, babe." Puck said, inclining his head to Cordelia. "For the first time a little while back he brought it up; said if he ever passed he'd let me know, asked me to bring you something…and then spent half the night telling me about how great you are. I had to get him hammered just to shut him up."

Cordelia was sitting on the coffee table in front of him and leaned forward with wide eyes as the demon pressed the cigarette between his lips and patted down his coat pockets.

"Now where did I put…_ah_, here we go." He said, pulling a wooden box from his pocket and looking down at it. "Whatever this is he's been pretty nuts about me getting to you with it. I gotta tell you – waking up to the ghost of an Irishman screaming '_wake up, ya slacker!_' in your ear before the mattress is flipped over with you _still on it_ is not a pleasant experience. The deeper he gets the harder it is for me to hear him and he loses his ability to effect my surrounding – I can't really have a conversation with him but I'll be _damned_ if he didn't make sure I got the message. Probably stood there cursing at me under his breath all night, saving up enough energy to do it while I was sleeping." He handed the box over to Cordelia, watching her stare down at it with tear-filled eyes.

"Are you…_umm_…" She swallowed hard, clearing her throat and looking up at him slowly. _So Doyle was able to reach this man, he was still here…she wanted to talk to him, the thought of missing her chance was heart wrenching. _"Are you gonna stick around for a while?" She asked in a weak voice and watched him nod, giving her a reassuring smile. "Angel…I'm…"

"Go." Angel said, motioning for her to head downstairs for some privacy.

"Thank you." She whispered, climbing from the table and walking to the elevator, unable to tear her eyes from the box in her hands as she went.

* * *

**If you read it, FEED it! :D **


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

**  
MUSIC:**  
"Who Am I To Say" by Hope  
"Do What You Have to Do" by Sarah McLachlan

* * *

Cordelia took a seat on the bed, staring down at the box in her hands. It was like holding the only piece of Doyle left in the world. She didn't want to open it – wanted to leave it so that part of him still waited for her to discover. Having it here felt like having him with her, there was still something left for him to say to her inside this box.

Avoiding lifting the cover and having to realize all over again that there was nothing more from him afterward she studied the carvings in the dark wood, traced her fingers over its aged metal clasps and took a staggered breath. "I miss you so much." She said softly to him, closing her eyes and imagining his smile. A single tear streamed down her cheek as she smelled him, that familiar scent of whisky and cigarettes mixed with cologne. She attributed its presence to the boxes in Angel's closet – had never realized how much she would miss his scent. "I guess this is it, huh?" She asked the silence with a pained laugh. "No more after this…" Her bottom lip quivered. "_It's not fair, Doyle_." She whispered as she began to cry again.

After a moment she cursed herself and wiped the tears from her eyes, taking a steadying breath and slowly opening the box. There were papers inside, a small velvet bag…and nothing more. She was already sad to have the knowledge of what the box contained but forced herself to continue.

With a trembling hand she reached down and picked up the papers, unfolding them and smiling at his familiar handwriting. He'd taken a lot of care in writing this; she could tell by the lack of his usual scribble marks and crossed out words.

_

* * *

_

Princess,

_This is by far the most difficult thing I've ever written, but I'm guessing it's not so easy to be reading it either. So it really happened then. I had a feeling this was coming, not really sure of the details or when it was to be but my visions were giving me peeks in the last few days – wanted to make sure I left this in case it came true. Didn't have much to go on in the way of trying to avoid it so I kept it to myself; all I got were feelings and a bright light – I'm sure that will make sense to you now and I know it must have for me when I saw it._

_What you need to understand is that how I went, the choices I made and what I did, I knew it was right. I felt that in the visions, a certainty in my actions that I'm not accustomed to._

_I felt your kiss, as well, Cordy – can recall the taste of your lips and it has me walking on air. It was everything I could have hoped for and more, to feel you against me, to touch you and know that you wanted me to stay. You're sitting across from me right now while I'm writing this, giving me a funny face cause you've caught me smiling at you again, probably the hundredth time in the last hour. God, have I ever told you how beautiful you are?_

_There, I just did and now you're shaking your head at me like I've lost my mind, telling me that your hair is a mess and you've not had time to do your makeup properly. You still look like a goddess._

* * *

Cordelia sobbed and covered her mouth with her hand. She knew when this was written, it was the day before he'd died. When she came in to work that morning he'd been sitting on the couch jotting in a notebook, he'd smiled up at her and stared at her so adoringly while she sat at her desk and drank her coffee. She'd busted on him as always, telling him that he was giving her the creeps and that if he kept it up she'd get a restraining order – he'd told her no restraining order could ever stop him from finding her beautiful, told her at least ten times by lunch how radiant she was. Now she was replaying what he'd looked like writing it as she read, agonizing over the fact that she'd been so cruel to him when he'd known on some level that his time was running out.

_

* * *

_

You are so incredibly adorable. I know all the things you say are jokes, darling – don't ever worry that you were too cold to me or that I ever took our banter to heart. I understand why you are the way you are and love you all the more for it. I'm so thankful that I got to have you for even a fleeting **second** before the end, nothing could make me happier.

_I don't think I got the chance to tell you how much I adore you, how much I love you and how badly I wanted to stay with you. It can't change things but I needed you to know. I would have given anything to spend every hour until we grew old and passed away making you smile. You deserve to be happy, love._

_So don't cry for me anymore, yeah? I'm still around, watching over you and loving you more and more each day. There should be a bag with this letter, open it now._

* * *

She sniffled and tried to read past her tears, reaching down and picking up the bag and shaking something red into the palm of her hand. Lifting it by the ribbon it was strung to she gazed at the beautiful glass heart. It was cloudy at its center, something had been pressed within it and she brought it close to her face trying to make it out.

With a sigh she glared up at the dim lights, giving up on it for the time being and letting her fingers trace over the silver at its base, the ring that protruded from the top so that it could be worn as a necklace. She put the ribbon around her neck and felt the comforting weight of the heart settle against her chest, pressing it against her as she went back to the letter.

_

* * *

_

It's not exactly Tiffany's, but it was made for you, princess; one of a kind just like yourself. Keep it with you always; it's where my heart belongs. Now this is important – don't ever let anyone else have it – if you need to go anywhere without it give it to Angel for safekeeping.

_I wish we'd had more time, wish I could have spent a long life by your side but it wasn't in the cards – never had much in the way of luck as you can tell. My only regret is that we never got our chance but like I said, kissing you once is enough to keep me spinning merrily all the way into the afterlife. Whatever is coming I'll be here for you, whatever happens I'm yours._

_I don't expect you to stop living now that I'm gone – you need comfort and deserve love. Someone ought to be giving it if it can't be me, though I'm sorry to say they're not likely to be as charming and handsome as myself. I can only hope that when we're together again you'll still care for me as much as you do now. If you've married and had dozens of children by then your husband is just gonna have to deal with me insisting at least one more kiss, princess._

_So chin up, stay strong and don't forget me. I'm here if you need to talk to me – may not be able to answer but I'll hear you forever._

_Oh, and if you're ever in the shower and the door opens unexpectedly I have to apologize in advance, but come on – if I can pull it off you can't blame me for it._

* * *

Cordelia couldn't help but laugh and shake her head; it was just such a Doyle thing to say.

* * *

_That's my girl, laughing is good – keep smiling for me. As you've pointed out in the past there's only one person allowed to walk around all broody and stoic in the office and Angel is already filling the position._

_Angel…he's gonna need you more than ever now, princess. Tell him I said "Glac bog an saol agus glacfaidh an saol bog tú" …and now you're scrunching up your face wondering if I'm crazy enough to think you'd remember that. Show him the letter so you don't mispronounce it and have him thinking I'm cursing him or something ha-ha_

* * *

She panicked seeing the end of the page fast approaching, her stomach twisting at the knowledge that he was almost gone again.

* * *

_And my last words to you? I don't want to write them. I want to see you again and speak them myself. So instead I'll leave you with a poem – one of my favorites…and don't you go rolling your eyes at me now, either. It's not my fault I was sent the vision of kissing you and found it more stunning than the knowledge of impending death – makes a man a bit soft in the heart._

_'The red rose whispers of passion,  
And the white rose breathes of love,  
O, the red rose is a falcon,  
And the white rose is a dove._

_But I send you a cream-white rosebud  
With a flush on its petals tips;  
For the love that is purest and sweetest  
Has a kiss of desire on the lips.'_

_Until we meet again, princess, I send you my love with every breath you take._

_Yours forever,  
Doyle_

* * *

She bit her bottom lip and flipped the pages over, checking for anything more and smiling when she found a tiny note in the bottom corner. He'd known she wouldn't want it to end. "_It's gonna be okay, princess – I promise. I'm with you always_."

The silence of the room seemed deafening suddenly, but she felt a little lighter than before, as if some of the grief had lifted. It didn't stop her from curling up on the bed hugging the letter, crying for him again for several moments before going back upstairs.

* * *

**To read is fine, to REVIEW is divine ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

The men all stood as she entered the room, Angel looking ready to burst with questions. Cordelia's eyes were puffy but at least she was smiling.

"_So_…" Angel began, watching her expectantly.

"He wrote you a message," She said and her smile widened as she approached. "Right here, said for me to show it to you so I wouldn't mispronounce it." She pointed out the part on the page and handed it over, watching his face light up. Angel laughed reading the advice and nodded, looking at Cordelia questioningly. "You can read it, he told you everything anyway." She said, walking over and sitting beside Puck as Angel leaned against the desk and began reading the letter. It wasn't until she was seated next to him that she noticed the way he was staring at the doorway in surprise. Her brows drew together, following his gaze and smiling as she realized what he must be seeing.

"_Crazy _little Irish son of a…" Puck breathed as Doyle pressed a finger to his lips and winked at him.

"He's there, isn't he?" Cordelia asked, but judging by the way her heart was pounding in her chest and the butterflies in her stomach she knew it was true.

Puck struggled to swallow, blinking several times and turning to face Cordy. "Darling, he wasn't just in love with you – he was friggin _loony tunes_ for you. I just…" He looked back at Doyle with his jaw hanging open in shock. Doyle was now crossing his arms over his chest, glaring at Puck in a way that told him if he didn't keep quiet he'd be getting tossed out of his bed on a daily basis. Puck cleared his throat, shaking his head and looking down at his hand as Cordelia took it in her own.

"Will he hear us?" She asked, smiling back over at the doorway.

Puck laughed. "He's _always_ gonna hear you now, babe…alright, _alright_, you angry Mick bastard! I'm _sorry_ – I won't call her '_babe'_." Puck rolled his eyes and confided to Cordelia, "Christ he's touchy." He shook his head and arched a brow at Doyle for the little outburst he'd just launched into and Cordelia laughed.

Angel had finished the letter and walked over to the doorway, staring right about where he assumed Doyle's face would be. He could remember everything about him, recalled his face in perfect detail.

"He's there, Angel. He says he hopes you enjoyed your break from being the only one sulking around here but…that you need to take it back up full time again…cuz Cordy is gonna cheer up now…and he wants you to make sure she keeps laughing…says it's not as easy as he always made it look." Puck said slowly, pausing for Doyle to speak before repeating it.

It was interesting for him to watch these things. For the rest of the people in the room they were talking to air but he could see and hear Doyle…clear as day, actually…_even if he really shouldn't be able to_. It wasn't his place to bring that up though; he wasn't about to stick his nose where it didn't belong.

"Doyle…" Angel began and had to look down at the floor as his eyes unexpectedly welled up. He had no intention of crying in front of everyone but wasn't prepared for how difficult this was proving to be. His jaw was flexing as he fought to keep his emotions in check. "What you did…I just want you to know how _proud_ I am of you." His voice was cracking now; his brow creasing and he turned his back to the others, not wanting the tears that were now streaming down his face to be seen by anyone but Doyle. "_I'm really going to miss you_." He whispered low enough that no one else would hear it and ran a hand over his face to hide the evidence of his crying. "You said I was the 'real deal in the hero department', I take that to heart – if anyone would know it's you."

Puck smiled from across the room. "Whatever you're saying over there he says to stop cuz you're choking him up….oh, and that if you plan on sitting at your table missing him again you better have the decency to pour him a proper shot next time."

Angel laughed despite the tears and wiped his face. "Fair enough, fair enough." He said as he nodded, dropping his voice to a whisper again. "I'll take care of her, don't worry. She ever brings a date in here I'll grill them ten times worse than we ever used to."

"He says he has no doubt, that you're a good man and Cordy is lucky to have you around." Puck said, smiling at the brunette that was squeezing his hand and grinning.

"She really loves you, Doyle. You do know that, right?" Angel whispered.

There was a long pause before any answer came; the only one who knew it was because Doyle was trying not to cry was Puck. "He says he knows – that he never thought he'd die so lucky." Puck's face twisted in confusion after the words left his mouth, his eyes scanning the room. "You Wesley?" He asked, pointing at the only face he hadn't put a name to.

Wesley's eyes widened in surprise. "_Me?_ Yes…but how…?" He began cautiously.

"Doyle says you can pick up the slack around here and watch their backs…but if you hit on Cordy he'll haunt you forever." Puck said, leaning back against the couch and smiling. "_Trust me_, he's serious."

Angel cast a sidelong smirk at the empty space beside himself, knowing that Doyle was smirking back at him without having to ask.

"Quite right." Wesley said nervously, clearing his throat and nodding. "Rest assured I have no intentions of doing any such thing." He told the Irish ghost in the room that was threatening him.

"_Son _of a…" Puck said, shaking his head and scowling at Doyle. "And he says to let you all know that I'd be '_delighted'_ to provide you with a number for myself and a few other Sermoportas in case he needs to give you a message. Said you'll know when to call – he'll find a way to tell you he needs to be heard, which for your sakes I hope doesn't mean mattress flipping."

Cordelia smiled and handed him a notepad and pen, watching him press the tip of his tongue in the corner of his mouth in a quirky way as he hurriedly alternated between scribbling and talking.

"I got him on here already…_and_ him…yeah, I know…_Doyle_…would you just…I _got_ it…would you just shut up and let me think for a second? Geesh…" He bickered as the others laughed. "_Alright_, tone it down! I'm getting to her now…" Puck said, turning to Cordy and sighing as he handed over the notepad. "He wants to talk to you alone…which I'm sorry to say still involves me." She stood, walking into Angel's office with Puck in tow as he rambled. "And no hugging or nothing, this ain't 'Ghost', lady. I'm just around to relay messages. Not that I'd be opposed to a beautiful woman such as yourself needing a shoulder to cry on but my pal, _mouth_ over here would never leave me alone if I hadn't pointed it out beforehand."

Angel smiled as the door closed behind them, settling down to reread the letter as Wesley approached him laughing nervously. "You…you don't suppose Doyle is angry with me for…" He dropped his voice to a whisper, "_for her hugging me while she was crying yesterday…do you?_" Angel only smirked up at him and didn't say a word, leaving Wesley to fidget awkwardly and look around the room for any sign of an inbound vengeful spirit.

The spirit, however, was more interested in his princess. Cordelia sat on the couch, resting her trembling hands on her knees as Puck pulled up a chair across from her.

Puck squeezed her hand in reassurance and gave her such a compassionate smile that it surprised her, his demeanor was totally different than it had been when he arrived. This was what he was comfortable doing, one on one speaking for those who needed to be heard. He looked beside her, watching Doyle slowly sit next to her. The ghost of his friend was staring at the love of his life with such unbridled adoration that it amazed him. He felt such heartbreak for these two – it was going to be difficult to pass the messages, he already knew it. "Cordelia…Doyle is sitting with you now." He whispered and her bottom lip quivered as she turned to face the empty air at her side.

She tried so hard not to cry but she couldn't help it, she could _smell_ him again. "Were you downstairs with me while I was reading your letter?" She managed in a strained voice.

Puck waited to see if Doyle would admit to it, he figured the omissions of truth would come soon enough and wasn't looking forward to them. "He says, _'I was…I sat beside you then just like I am now. I love you so much…I couldn't stand to be away from you, didn't want you to be alone any more'_."

That was _blindingly_ apparent, Puck thought to himself with a sigh.

Cordy nodded, trying to breathe as she wept. "Umm…is it okay that I don't even know where to begin?" She asked, forcing a smile and trying to imagine Doyle's face as she stared where she knew he was looking back at her.

"He says, _'it's okay, princess…take your time'_." Puck relayed.

She wiped tears from her cheeks in vain, they were replaced within seconds. "I want to touch you." She pleaded, looking down at her hand and turning it over, waiting for anything to happen.

Puck watched Doyle struggling to muster the energy for it as he rested his hand in hers, knowing by the way Cordelia covered her mouth with her other hand that he'd accomplished something.

It felt like wind rushing across her skin, cool and warm in the same instant. "_I'm so __**sorry**__, Doyle_…" She finally sobbed, looking up into the eyes she couldn't see as words tumbled from her mouth. "I was so mean when you were so sweet to me…I was just afraid…I didn't want to let anyone hurt me again…but I always thought…I thought we'd have time…I thought if I could just get over it you'd still…" She lost her voice as the tears flowed. "_Still be here_." She choked out and sobbed harder feeling the wind at her face, knowing he was trying to wipe away her tears.

Puck had to look away as the two of them cried, a lump forming in his throat now that was demanding release. "He says, '_You can't blame yourself for not knowing this would happen…I know you were just guarding your heart, please don't punish yourself for it. The more you ran, the more I chased – I never gave up on you. I wanted to stay with you, princess. I can't even begin to tell you how badly I wanted to'_." Puck groaned and rubbed his eyes as he could no longer keep himself from crying with them, watching them trying to touch one another was killing him.

"It's not _fair_…how am I supposed to go on without you?" She asked him desperately. "We got our chance and then…I can't _breathe_ since you left…I just want to hold you…I want it to never have happened…I want to just take it back and get another chance. Can't we have another chance? Isn't there anything I can give? They just have to name it, Doyle – I just want you back."

Puck found when he tried to speak that the way his voice was cracking was pretty close to the way Doyle's was. "He says, '_Shh…I know, darling…I know…but we can't change the past. And don't talk like that, either. You never know who might be listening and I couldn't stand the thought of you hurting just for the sake of my life…"_

Cordy cut him off, "But you _**died**_ for mine, Doyle! Mine and everyone else's – how do you think that makes _me_ feel? Can't I offer something? There _has_ to be a way."

Hearing her saying these things was making Doyle and Puck both fearful, it wasn't a good idea to tempt fate. "He says, _'Princess…I want you to promise me you won't offer anything to anyone to have me back, I can't tell you how dangerous it is to say such things. __**Promise**__ me'._"

She shook her head, sobbing that it wasn't fair that he could sacrifice himself but she couldn't offer a thing to bring him back to her. After a moment she felt pressure and wind caressing her cheek, Doyle giving everything he could in that moment to touch her. "I promise, Doyle." She finally whispered, leaning into the sensation and closing her eyes, wishing that he was flesh and blood and warmth for her again.

"He says_, 'never look back, yeah? It's okay, love'_." Puck had to cover his eyes, watching Doyle trying so desperately to keep the contact going was fracturing his heart. The two cried for several moments, leaving Puck to stare out the window and try to think happy thoughts to keep his emotions in check.

"You left something behind, you know…" Cordelia finally managed with a sniffle and weak smile.

Puck looked at his friend in confusion as he relayed the response. "He says, _'you know I never would have wished an ounce of pain on you, love – but there was only one person I knew could entrust them to, one person I knew was strong enough to endure them and would keep Angel going. I was out of time and as much as I didn't want you to have to carry the weight of that burden I had no other choice. Are you cross with me for it'?_"

Cordelia laughed and wiped her cheeks. "The first time one hit? Oh yeah, let me tell you I had a few choice words for you…" Her features softened. "But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I could do it; that I was glad to have a part of you with me…no matter how _agonizingly_ painful and inconvenient that part happens to be." She added with a mock scowl.

The front door had opened and all three of them looked out the window. A young girl entered looking like she was on the run from something and Doyle sighed.

Puck knew this was always the hardest part. "He says, _'time to go to work, princess. She needs you out there – between Angel and that twit they're liable to chase her out the door and I know you all could use the money'._"

Cordy sobbed and looked over at Puck desperately before turning back to the empty place at her side. "I'm not ready yet. I _can't_ –" She began, shaking her head but Puck cut her off.

"He says, _'You need to, and what are you worryin about? I told you I'll still be around when you need me. Not like you can see me now any way'_."

"But I can _hear_ you...more than I have in weeks." She whispered, looking down at her hands as she cried.

Puck laughed. "He says, _'just act like I'm being really obnoxious and you're toning me out. Or like I've got strep throat and lost my voice'_."

Cordy smiled weakly and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"He says, _'good girl. Now go out there and save that client before Wesley spills something on her. I love you, princess. If you ever really need me I'll do whatever it takes to be there. I'm not saying goodbye so don't you do it, either_'." Puck said, standing as Doyle did.

Cordy nodded, sniffling and whispering, "I love you, too, Doyle" before taking those first shaky steps to go on with her life…

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	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

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Demons and vampires and Big-Bads came and went, struggles and the pain of the visions wore down on her but she tried to be strong. She _needed_ to be strong for him.

She talked to him; when things got hard or when she didn't understand something and needed to think it through, when she wanted to share good news or when she was afraid, when she was nervous about auditions or when she was feeling especially lonely.

Doyle was silent; though occasionally – on the really tough days like his birthday or during particularly agonizing visions – she would catch his scent; feel that rush of wind across her cheek as she cried. She knew he was there on the darkest nights when the sadness crept in around her and threatened to steal her strength, she could feel him there keeping it at bay, lying beside her and talking to her despite her not hearing the words. She could almost feel his familiar accent washing over her senses like a song. He'd said he would be there for her and he was – not the way she wanted him to be but at least it was something.

He'd only asked to be heard once, when Buffy had shown up after the whole Faith fiasco and had it out with Angel – he'd been particularly broody after the fight and Cordy figured he'd stay in his funk for at least a month.

To the contrary she awoke the following morning to find the word '_Puck'_ spelled out with petals from the potpourri on her bedside table. She'd smiled and immediately called the Speaker, surprised to find that Puck could hear Doyle even over the phone in the background. He'd asked her to give her necklace to Angel when she got to the office – to get it back by the end of the day and to tell Angel when Puck arrived to go downstairs with him. When she'd started asking too many questions Doyle told Puck to say he had to go, which he did.

Angel had stared at her in confusion when she handed him the glass heart and told him what Doyle had requested but he readily agreed when Puck showed up. He'd sat at the table, Puck leaning against the wall and smiling as the bottle of whisky that hadn't moved an inch since their last discussion was pushed closer to Angel. "He says you two are long overdue for a talk." Puck relayed, watching Angel smile and nod before pouring the shots that neither of them would drink.

By the time Angel had let it all out and started to ask questions about the necklace nearly an hour had passed. It had started off simple, but the more he spoke the more suspicious he became.

"Why did you ask Cordelia to give me this?" He'd asked with a smile as he stared down at the heart, but no answer had come. His brows drew together; his smile fading when he realized something was off. He recalled the words in the letter and looked at the empty space across the table from him worriedly. "Why did you tell her not to let anyone else have it?" Nothing again and now Puck was starting to fidget. "What _is_ this, Doyle, if it's not just a necklace?" He'd asked, his voice rising as his panic started to grow.

"Must've worn himself out, papo. He ain't making with the chatting no more. Guess that's my cue to hit the bricks. You guys let me know if he needs to be heard again, k?" Puck said, pushing off the wall and trying to head for the stairs.

Before he made it two steps Angel had gotten to his feet and stopped him.

"What's going on?" Angel asked sternly, blocking the demon's path and looking around the room. "_Doyle? _What did you _do?_" He said, swallowing hard considering the possibilities.

Puck shifted nervously with Angel's hand pressing against his chest in warning, averting his eyes and really not wanting to find out whether the vampire was opposed to beating the answers out of him. He knew the fact that he was aware of the truth was plain to see in his guilt-ridden face. Lying to vamps was definitely not part of his job description. "He says he did what he had to do, not to worry about him and not to ask about it in front of Cordy, that she doesn't need to know." Puck relayed, watching Angel's face fall in disbelief.

"_No, _Doyle. You didn't…_please_ tell me you _didn't_." He breathed, having to return to the chair as realization hit him and his knees grew weak.

"He says if you were in his place you'd have done the same. That he's okay and at least now you understand why she needs to keep it with her." Puck said with relief evident in his voice that Angel wasn't staring at him so intensely anymore. "Says he's glad you know; that he'd worried what might happen if it fell in the wrong hands but didn't wanna make her suspicious by stressing it too much."

Angel's eyes slowly wandered to Puck's face in astonishment. "It could…you mean someone _could_…" He breathed, his face showing that just that quickly the wheels were already in motion.

This was precisely one of the reasons Doyle had hoped to keep this conversation from happening.

"He says not to even _think_ about it. It's not worth trying, would take too much and might ruin what he's done. He's happy where he is now and doesn't want to risk losing it." Puck said, watching Doyle pace the room worriedly behind Angel, wringing his hands and talking frantically. "He says to promise him you won't do anything stupid."

"Doyle…" Angel groaned, running his hands over his face in frustration. He finally shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest and sighing in defeat. "I promise."

He hated it…but who was he to interfere with a man's last wishes? So he'd put it to the back of his mind, not letting himself think about it further or consider the possibilities as the weeks turned to months. He did find himself checking to make sure the necklace was always safely hanging around Cordy's neck, though.

When the scroll containing The Prophecies of Aberjian came into their lives he had never once made mention of it, pretended it was simply a charm to represent love and tried to help Doyle by shrugging off Cordy's questions about _why_ it was so important to keep it with her, _why_ he'd wanted her to give it to Angel at one point, _why_ she had to give it to him for safekeeping if she ever had to take it off. She was persistent but he was good at evasion.

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MUSIC:

"Hide" by Red

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Then he got the call.

The hospital told him that Cordelia was suffering some sort of supposed psychotic breakdown; he'd known right away it wasn't anything other than supernatural foul play. He arrived at the nurses' station and asked where to find her but heard her shrieks; they pulled at him – sent him racing down the hall toward the sound despite the nurse behind him telling him not to. The sight of her in that moment was almost too much to bear, strapped to the bed screaming and writhing like a lunatic. He gripped her shoulders and called to her but she didn't see him, didn't respond as she flinched and cried out at the visions that were plaguing her.

The nurse said it then when he told her drugs wouldn't help: 'well _something_ better, I need to inform you that if we don't find a way to stop it…' Her voice had trailed off, those unspoken words piercing his heart more painfully than any stake could ever hope to.

And his world had come crashing down around him as he stared down at her. _He couldn't reach her. He needed time to find out what was done to her. She couldn't stay like this much longer_…

Through tears and gritted teeth he'd somehow thought to check as he struggled to hold Cordelia down, his eyes going to her throat and widening. "Where are her belongings?" He asked frantically and the nurses all stared at him in confusion. "Her _necklace!_ Where did you put her _necklace_?"

The head nurse spoke to him as if he was a child. "Sir, the paramedics removed it…she's not in control of herself right now – putting anything around her neck would be extremely dangerous for – "

A crash and screams down the hallway sent him running out the door. The nurses might not be willing to tell him, but he knew one person that damned sure was.

"_Come on, Doyle…show me where_…" He pleaded as he turned the corner at a dead run.

People were scattering from a room, pointing and yelling incoherently but he knew what it was, what it _had_ to be. He entered and ducked the unexpected whirlwind of wallets and keys and jewelry in the room's interior. Hundreds of bins were scattered across the floor, all of the patients' belongings being turned upside down as Doyle lost his mind more and more with every shriek that erupted from Cordelia. He was left to listen to her terrified and anguished screams with no way of reaching her and didn't even notice Angel at first.

"_Doyle!"_ Angel screamed into the chaos, watching the items instantly freeze in mid air, suspended there for a second before falling to the ground. "_**Where**__?_" He demanded in panic and the one bin that remained unharmed quickly slid across the shelf to him. He grabbed it and raced back out the door with a rush of wind at his back, opening the bin as he went and pulling the necklace from within, tossing the rest over his shoulder.

The nurses foolishly tried to stop him as he entered her room but were pushed aside by the unseen force that was surrounding him. He reached the bed and held Cordelia still long enough to place the charm around her neck.

As fast as it settled against her she went still, her eyes closing and body falling to the bed limp.

Silence settled over the room so quickly that it was startling, everyone exchanging shocked looks.

Everyone except, of course, for Angel; he was staring down at her with tears in his eyes, squeezing her hand and struggling to find his voice. "Keep her safe, Doyle. I'll fix this, I swear." He choked out, taking a deep breath and heading back to the door. He paused long enough to tell the head nurse, "Don't ask why – just leave that on her or she won't live through this, _got it?_"

She stared at him with wide, shocked eyes and nodded, unable to form words as she listened to the rhythmic beeping of Cordelia's suddenly normal heart rate.

He handed her a business card with his cell phone number on the back. "If anything changes, if you see anything strange, if _anyone_ tries to enter her room without handing you a business card like this first you _call me_ – is that understood?" Another nod and he was out the door – he'd have to get Gunn and his crew to come watch over her but needed to get the scroll first…

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To read is fine, to REVIEW is divine! ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

_She didn't understand what was happening to her. When the vision hit and subsided she could remember reaching for her phone…but then it started again…_

_Too fast, too bright, too loud, too brutal and too painful for her to endure…_

_It should have been over but it just kept going, raging on and tearing at her mind. It felt as if she had thousands of bodies, as if that was the only way for her to possibly be experiencing so much pain – no single being had the capacity to feel such a level of inconceivable anguish, sorrow, fear, hopelessness…_

_On and on it broke her, fracturing her mind as she screamed for help, unable to form words or see beyond the agony. _

_Her sanity was slipping, her will to fight leaving her, her strength dissipating as she prayed for it to end…._

_And all at once it was _**over**_. _

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**MUSIC:**  
"A Celtic Heart" by Russ Landau

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_

She sighed and nuzzled closer to the person holding her in their lap, familiar arms were shielding her from harm as soft lips kissed her forehead. Sleep came in this place, her mind protected from the maddening visions for the time being.

"_You're safe now, princess…" _

_Her eyelids fluttered open slowly at the sound of that beautifully accented voice, finding the world awash in white light and having difficulty focusing."Doyle?" She whispered weakly, struggling to perceive him through the haze. The second she saw his smile her heart swelled. _

"_It's alright…I've got you now…" He said softly, running his hand through her hair as she stared up at him. _

_She was too exhausted to move, just breathing was difficult and he drew her closer to his chest, cradling her and whispering soothingly in her ear. _

_Her eyes had just begun to close again when she spotted movement above them, her stomach twisted as she gazed up at the sky of this world. There, just beyond her reach she could make out the visions still raging on, the white glow was rolling over them like clouds, nearly blocking them from view completely. _

_A sob escaped her and Doyle looked down into her eyes intensely. "Don't worry about that, just look at me, princess." He told her, waiting for her gaze to meet with his and smiling down at her. _

"_What's happening to me?" She asked fearfully and he shushed her softly. _

"_It's gonna be okay…rest now…" He whispered. _

"_The visions…I can't feel them…they hurt so __**bad**__…" She whimpered. "Why can't I feel them anymore?" _

_Doyle's eyes filled with tears and he looked at her forehead as he brushed strands of hair from her face, hoping to avoid answering her. "Cordy…please…just don't think about it, love." He pleaded but her bottom lip was trembling._

"_Doyle?" She said. Her voice, no matter how weak, made it clear that she wanted to know. _

"_I've taken them from you…you won't feel the pain of it…but Angel will fix it, it will be over soon." He said, his eyes slowly returning to meet hers._

"_You're feeling it, aren't you? You're feeling it all?" She sobbed and he kissed her forehead again, shushing her as he pressed his lips there. _

"_It's not like it's going to kill me." He offered and smiled down at her sadly. "If anyone or anything wants to get at you it has to come through me first – I wouldn't have it any other way. You're safe and we're together, yeah?" He asked, watching her nod as she stared up at him. "Then that's all that matters." _

_She sighed as he lay back on the only portion of the white glow that seemed to have substance and drew her gently to him. "I dream of us like this." She whispered as she cuddled into the crook of his arm and he smiled. _

"_I know, princess. I'm here then, as well." He said softly. _

"_I don't want to go back." She confessed and he shook his head, his eyes passing over her face adoringly._

"_Don't think about it yet, just enjoy it while it lasts." He told her. _

"_Will it be like this? Will we be together here when I die?" She asked hopefully as she peered up at him and he bit his bottom lip._

"_Yes, princess." He managed in a strained whisper, as if he knew anything about what awaited them in the afterlife. _

_It was a lie told out of love…for Doyle really wasn't the right person to ask about the subject. _

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**If you read it, FEED it! :D **


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

**MUSIC:**  
"Lothlórien" by Enya  
"My Immortal" by Evanescence

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Into their sanctuary the words filtered and Doyle looked down at her sleeping face longingly.

"And if the beast shalt find thee and touch thee  
thou shalt be wounded in thy soul…"

_He leaned down to her, kissing her sweetly and smiling against her lips as she stirred. Soft moans escaped her, her eyes opening slowly and he gazed into them adoringly. "It's time to go home, princess…" He whispered and watched her eyes instantly tear up, her hands tightening behind his neck. _

"_**No**__. I can't, Doyle…please? Can I stay with you? Please let me stay." She begged frantically. _

_He sighed and shook his head, tracing his fingers lovingly over the back of her arm. "Someday, Cordy. I promise I'll be here when it comes, waiting for you."_

"And thou shalt know madness…  
the beast shalt attack and cripple thee  
and though shalt know neither friend nor family…"

"_Nooo…please…no!" Cordelia begged as Wesley's words began to break the spell, kissing Doyle desperately, deeply as she cried. _

"But thou shalt undo the beast…  
though shalt find the sacred words of Anatole  
and thou shalt be restored…"

_Tears streamed down Doyle's face as he clung to her just as urgently, he'd been tormented with the need to touch her for so long, now it was slipping away again. He could pretend to be as strong as he wanted when he spoke; the truth was that this was breaking him. Heaven was having her in his arms after so many months of seeing her weeping for him without being able to comfort her, to hold her; it had tormented him worse than any hell he could have imagined. No matter the pain of the visions that he was suffering in order to be here he didn't want to let her go either, couldn't keep up the mask of strength with her pressed against him. _

"Three times shalt thou say these words…"

"_I love you, princess." Doyle sobbed against her lips, unable to withstand the crushing pain of losing her again as he stared down into her eyes._

"_I love you, Doyle." She cried, pressing her forehead to his and trying to hold on…if she could just hold on… _

"Unbind…Unbind…_**Unbind**_."

* * *

The hospital room rushed back into her perception with blinding intensity as a sob escaped her lips. She opened her eyes slowly, turning and finding Angel smiling down at her.

"Hey…" He said softly, his voice straining with joy at having her returned to him.

"_Angel_." She said, smiling at his familiar face as he stroked her cheek…but the second his name left her lips her expression twisted in devastation. He was the one person who shared her grief for Doyle, the one who understood the pain. She wanted to tell him what he'd just taken her away from, to have him hold her and let her cry for it. She wanted him to ask Wesley to return her to Doyle somehow…

"Welcome back." Angel whispered as his eyes filled with tears and she bit her lip, turning to see Wesley's relieved face. They were each holding her hands tightly, so genuinely thankful to see that she was safe…

How could she tell them that she hadn't wanted to return? That she wished they'd just let her die if it meant she would have been able to stay in that place with Doyle? And so she took a deep breath, forcing a weak smile for them and hardening her heart, storing the pain deep inside of herself to protect them from it in that moment. She told Angel about the visions instead, about the suffering of the world that she'd felt, about the souls crying out for help.

The following morning she was released from the hospital, a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach sapping her of her strength. She'd learned of the explosion at their office and pretended not to notice that the first singed, smoke damaged boxes Angel had recovered and brought to her apartment to tuck safely into her closet were Doyle's belongings.

Her personality was notably different now, she'd endured the loss of Doyle for a second time and it left her broken inside. The haunted look in her eyes tipped Angel off that something more was going on and he waited a couple of days before bringing it up, taking his opportunity on a rare occasion when Wesley wasn't hovering nearby. He'd entered the apartment to find her sitting on her couch, staring out the window lost in thought. She didn't look at him as he sat beside her, seemed not to notice him until he'd taken her hand in his.

"You ready to tell me yet?" Angel whispered, watching her nod and keep her eyes locked on the city lights beyond the glass.

"He was there with me." She said softly and heard him take a choppy breath, knowing without a doubt who she was talking about. "Just when I thought I couldn't take any more he came and protected me – took the pain of the visions and hid me away deep inside my mind from them. I didn't realize that at the time but it makes sense, it was the place I'd dreamed about." She turned and looked him in the eyes; the light was gone from hers now. She was all out of tears, had finally reached the point of numbness. "It was our heaven, Angel. He was _real_ there, I could smell him and hold him and kiss him…" She took a staggered breath and looked back out the window. "_And I lost him again_."

Angel sighed and squeezed her hand; staring so intently at the glass heart that he didn't realize she was watching him out of the corner of her eye. "No you didn't, he told you – he's still here, Cordy."

Cordelia turned and looked at him determinedly, turning his words back on him. "So…are _you_ ready to tell _me_ yet?"

He sat up straight and looked at her in confusion. "Tell you what?" He asked and watched her brow arch disbelievingly as she pointed at the heart.

"Why _this_ is so important? Why ever since the day Doyle asked me to give this to you you've been staring at it? Why when they took it off of me at the market the pain got a _thousand_ times worse and why it was back on my neck when I woke up? What _is_ this, Angel?" Cordelia asked, her expression devoid of any hint of the emotions in her voice. "He's a terrible liar, you know. Even with as weak as I was I knew he was lying to me. I asked him if we'd be together in that place when I died and I could see the truth trying to form on his lips…but he pushed it back and told me we would be." She didn't turn as a CD case was knocked off of her entertainment center; she'd been expecting her words to spark a reaction.

Angel's eyes flicked over to it and he took a deep breath before attempting to stand. "I'll go call Puck…" He began but she didn't release his hand.

"_Angel_." She said in warning and watched him looking around the apartment for any help.

"Cordy, it's not my…you just really need to talk to Doyle." He pleaded and she grudgingly released him.

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	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

Puck had been wondering how long this would take. You couldn't keep secrets like this from their type; they were around this stuff far too often. He arrived at Cordelia's apartment, hat in hand as Angel opened the door and let him in.

Two steps inside the door he stopped, his eyes going to Angel worriedly as he whispered, "Angel…you aware that there's another –?"

Angel, Doyle and Cordelia all muttered '_yes'_ in unimpressed tones at the same time.

"We know, Puck – that's Phantom Dennis. Say hi, Phantom Dennis." Angel called over his shoulder and Puck arched a brow as the ghost waved back and said hello.

"Ya'll are some interesting people, you know that?" Puck said, shaking his head and entering the living room as Angel closed the door behind him. Doyle was leaning beside the fireplace, staring at Cordelia anxiously, his hand draped over his mouth and he barely let his eyes stray from her to acknowledge Puck as he approached. "About that time, huh?" Puck asked and watched Doyle nod sadly. "_Right_." He said with a sigh, taking off his jacket and looking over at Angel purposefully.

Angel cleared his throat, getting the message. If he wanted to leave now was the time. "Well I'll just be…" He began in a nonchalant tone, pointing over his shoulder at the door but his voice faltered when Cordelia pointed determinedly to one of the chairs. "Sitting right here, apparently." He said with a smile, taking a seat and clasping his hands in front of him, his mouth forming a tight line as he watched Puck walk over in front of Cordy.

"Hey there, chickie." Puck said softly and gave her hand a squeeze of reassurance, watching her force a smile for him despite how upset she was. She didn't know why but she found Puck incredibly likable, probably because he was her link to Doyle's voice – without him she'd only have silence. He was so understanding with her, never seemed to want to rush things. "You got any booze here? Cuz I gotta tell ya, I ain't been looking forward to this conversation." She pointed at a bottle of whisky on the kitchen counter next to the pack of Marlboros she'd bought after Doyle died, never drank or smoked personally but had wanted to have them close. "Thanks." He said, going to the kitchen and grabbing a sizable glass from the cabinet along with the bottle. He returned to the living room and sighed at the uncomfortable silence as he poured himself a drink, swallowing it in a few gulps and leaning back in the chair beside Angel. He let out a hiss as he set the empty glass on the table, his eyes going back and forth between Doyle and Cordy. "So…who's starting here?" He asked, bracing himself for the emotional explosion.

"I'd say him…" Cordelia said, staring out the window again and shaking her head as she caught his scent. She knew he had come to sit beside her.

"He says, _'please don't be angry with me, princess. I didn't want to lie…I just didn't know what else to say. You'd already been through so much'._" Puck began.

She nodded. "Then tell me the truth now – you know I'm already figuring it out on my own and I'd rather hear it from you."

Puck shifted uncomfortably in his chair at her tone, chickie was miffed to say the least. "He says, _'I didn't want you to be alone, couldn't deal with the idea of not being around to help you…so I…made a choice'_."

Cordelia took a deep breath. "What _'choice'_, Doyle?" She closed her eyes, her heart telling her the answer.

"He says, _'to stay'_." Puck whispered and Angel gave him a look of understanding, he knew this was one of those moments where being a Speaker had to be especially difficult.

"You decided _'to stay'_ – you mean you gave up going to whatever the afterlife might hold for you _just_ to watch over me? After fighting and dying you don't think you _earned_ a spot in heaven?" She asked him, her heart aching at this finally coming out. She'd known something wasn't right but it was crushing to hear him admitting to it. "How did you do it?" She whispered.

Puck watched Doyle struggling to speak for a moment. "He says, _'A warlock I know owed me a favor – had him make the heart, the spell binds my soul to it and you'_."

Cordelia nodded slowly. "And that's why after telling us that he _couldn't_ have a conversation with you Puck was suddenly able to after I got this?" She asked, her fingers running over the heart. That part had always confused her but she'd been too grateful to question it.

Puck cleared his throat guiltily when Doyle shot him an accusatory look for raising her suspicions. "He says, _'you had to accept it for it to take effect – that's why I was after Puck to hurry and bring it to you when I finally was able to come back – I was losing my hold, any longer and I'd have been behind the barriers and it wouldn't have worked'."_

"Well…at least this explains Dennis' sudden interest in sports." She whispered bitterly before closing her eyes in an effort to stay calm. "So if I _die?_ What happens to you then?" She asked.

"He says, _'it's bound to your life force, princess – if you die it shatters; destroys the binding so I can follow'._" Puck relayed, pouring himself another shot and offering the bottle to Angel.

Without speaking Cordelia pulled the necklace off.

All four men in the room (_yes, Dennis, too_) froze like deer caught in headlights for a second, Puck with the glass of whisky still pressed to his lips staring at her with wide eyes - terrified that she was going to break it or something.

Instead she only gazed down at it. "What's inside of it?" She asked, once again trying to make out the hazy mass at its core.

Puck gave Angel a discrete look with a curled lip that clearly told him the answer was less than appetizing and Angel smirked, having an idea of what it would take to accomplish such a binding. "He says, _'parts of the spell'_." Puck told her, thankful that he hadn't gone into the gruesome details.

Cordelia bit her bottom lip, her voice cracking as she spoke. "So if I had…met someone…and taken them home with me…" She began and again all four men in the room froze up, the subject was bound to be unpleasant. "You would have been forced to be there through it? Why would you _do_ that to yourself, Doyle?"

Puck was instantly pouring again, cursing under his breath and this time Angel took the whisky when it was offered, the entire bottle wouldn't be enough to help him but the act of drinking it was comforting somehow. This was proving to be tenser than a battle any day of the week. He found his eyes wandering to the doorway hoping for a demon to burst through it and provide a distraction.

After swallowing a shot Puck answered for a thoroughly distraught Doyle. "He says, _'I thought about that, princess…and I decided it would be worth the pain to be able to look after you, protect you if possible'._"

Cordelia wiped away the tears that started flowing down her cheeks and exhaled sharply, crossing her arms over her chest, drawing her knees up as she leaned back against the arm of the couch. She smiled weakly feeling the wind rushing over her bare feet, knowing he was running his hand across them comfortingly. "Doyle…you can't _do_ this." She whispered. "You know I love you, how can I let you put yourself through this for me? You should be at rest – should be receiving some kind of bliss to repay you for your sacrifice. How selfish would I be to keep you here?" She asked.

Puck glanced over at Angel and shook his head; they exchanged a meaningful look – if Cordelia freed Doyle tonight against his wishes they were both going to be crying like little girls and _a lot_ more whisky would be in order.

"He says, _'you won't hurt my feelings if you don't want me so close, princess – I can respect you wanting privacy. You can just give it to Angel to keep in case I'm needed…" _Puck didn't point out that Doyle was having difficulty speaking these words. Despite pretending for her benefit to be alright with it there was a look on his face in that moment of absolute gut-wrenching devastation. _"I didn't mean to intrude, just wanted to be able to help if you needed me, is all – to keep you safe if I could like when those visions hit you. I'm not ready to go yet – besides, I already know there's nothing they can offer me up there that – _" Puck paused, his eyes widening and voice breaking at what he was about to repeat. He apologized, taking a swig from the bottle as Angel offered it to him and continuing. "_There's nothing they can offer me up there that would bring me anywhere near the happiness of being able to see your face. I had hoped to keep this from you for these reasons, but I understand that now that you do know it will make it difficult for you to move on – you just say the word and Angel can take the necklace'_."

The apartment was rather dusty, Angel decided as he rubbed his face and cleared his throat. His watery eyes and sniffling had nothing at all to do with hearing his only friend in the world lying for the sake of Cordelia's happiness. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that the mention of her being with another man was tearing Doyle apart – he didn't have to see him to know what a wreck he must be right then.

Cordelia reached down to where the wind was still rushing across her feet, letting her hand rest just above it and smiling as she realized the space between her palm and feet was the exact thickness of his hand. It helped her see him there in her mind. "Doyle, I'm not saying I'm moving on. You've been here, you know that's not even an option – I'm too hung up on your crazy ass. Where else am I gonna find a badly dressed Irish half-demon who makes me laugh the way you do?" She said softly. "I just…I don't want you to suffer for me."

"He says he'd suffer far worse without you." Puck said, knowing that Doyle regretted his honesty the second it slipped. It wouldn't make it easier for Cordelia to go on with her life but he couldn't help but be honest after hearing her words.

"What a mess…" She whispered, shaking her head and closing her eyes. "So is this why it's so important that no one but Angel or I have the necklace?" She asked and knew she'd struck a nerve by the way Angel and Puck were both suddenly reaching for the bottle at the same time. No answer came for a moment and she tilted her head to the side as she considered the possible answers.

Doyle didn't want to lie again, or dance around the truth with her, but this was the part he was afraid of, her clinging to a hope only to be disappointed if it wouldn't work. He gave Puck a pleading look, not knowing what to say here but Puck offered no assistance – he was just the messenger.

Puck smiled. "I'm not repeating that, Doyle – there's a lady present." He teased after the Irishman uttered a stream of curses under his breath. "Alright, _that_ I'll repeat…he says, _'it's dangerous business binding your soul and essence to the world of the living after you've passed…if that heart got into the wrong hands someone might be able to…__**use**__ me for their own agenda'._"

Cordelia looked around the room in confusion. "But what could a _ghost_ do? I mean, you and I can barely even touch one another and…" Her eyes widened as the realization knocked the wind from her. "_Doyle_…" She breathed and saw out of the corner of her eye that the men were now fidgeting awkwardly, everyone had known except her. "This…" She whispered as she held the heart protectively, swallowing and trying to steady her breathing. "Someone could bring you _back_ with this, _couldn't_ _they?"_

A soft groan escaped Angel and he pinched the bridge of his nose. _Way to go, Cordy_ – she'd successfully managed to nail _every_ topic that would make this more painful.

"He says, '_princess…it wouldn't – _" Puck began but she held up a hand determinedly, cutting him off and staring intensely at the empty space in front of her – sensing somehow that Doyle was staring back at her.

"Doyle, I want to hear one of two words right now; either 'Yes' or 'No'. _Nothing else_, answer the question." She instructed in a tone that left no room for argument.

Puck and Angel stared at the couch with wide eyes, both leaning forward expectantly.

Finally Puck's whisper broke the silence.

"_Yes_."

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	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

With Puck following her around the apartment frantically trying to convey the panicked words of Doyle she'd paced and talked on the phone, calling Wesley first and telling him to bring every book he had on restoration and resurrection spells. When Puck had asked for Doyle who she was calling next she pressed the heart into Angel's hand and gave him a meaningful look, turning and going into her bedroom and slamming the door. She wasn't sure exactly how far Doyle could go from the amulet, she knew it was at least the span of one room but hoped it wouldn't be far enough for him to follow her.

"He wants to know who she'd call, Angel." Puck said, glaring at the Irishman that was having a hissy fit beside him. "And he's not _shutting up_ about it, either. I don't think I need to stress to you how dangerous it is for her to share this information with just anyone."

Angel was staring at the window, his eyes out of focus as he ran his fingers over his chin and thought things through. "There's only one person I can think of that she'd call…and believe me when I tell you it's someone trustworthy."

Wesley entered the apartment with his arms overflowing with books, rushing to the kitchen table and dropping them there, sighing in relief once he was free of them.

Puck was standing behind him in an instant. "Doyle says to tell you you're only making things _worse_ – that you'd better explain to Cordelia that this isn't safe."

The statement earned a laugh from Wesley as he began opening books across the tabletop. "Yes, well…_Doyle_…there's a rather important difference between you and I…" He began, turning and pushing his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. "Cordelia can only make _one of us_ suffer unimaginably if she does not get her way."

Puck and Doyle exchanged a smirk; at least the British bastard knew what he was talking about there.

With a sigh Wesley continued, "I have no intention of denying her the facts…and yes, the dangers will be part of that…but I'm not stupid enough to provoke her temper."

"He's right – it's generally a bad idea." Cordelia said as she entered the dining room and took a seat, thanking Wesley as he handed her a legal pad and pen for notes. "Oh, Angel – don't think you're off the hook, either Mr. _'I Didn't Tell Cordelia There's a Chance That We Can Bring Doyle Back From the Dead'_." She called as she opened a book. "I see several languages here that you can read and I can't so get to researching."

Angel trudged into the dining room muttering under his breath as he pulled up a chair, "See? See what I get for keeping a promise to you, Doyle? Now _I'm_ in doing research."

The three of them got to work as Puck leaned against the wall and watched Doyle pacing, he was passing his concerns to them but they were falling on deaf ears for the most part. When he pleaded with her not to do it, saying she might risk breaking his link to her Cordelia had closed her book loudly enough to cause everyone to jump. She sighed and excused herself from the table, retrieving the heart from Angel and snagging Puck by an arm, pulling him to her bedroom and closing the door.

She spun to face them the instant the door was shut, waiting for Puck to point out where Doyle was standing before starting a whispered tirade.

"Doyle, you better _listen up_ – I'm just checking out our options, okay? If there's no guarantee that we can try this and maintain the link if it fails then we won't do it…but do you see _that?_" She demanded, pointing at her bed in frustration.

Doyle's jaw dropped in time with Puck's, both of them nodding and muttering '_uh huh_…'

"It's awful damned cold and I could do with a little action of the non-ghostly variety. If there's a shot at us finally being there together I'm going to give it a try. I want to _be_ with you, it's all I've wanted since before you were gone and I happen to be incredibly tenacious about getting what I want, in case you hadn't noticed. You and I are an item, albeit an _unusual_ one with you being dead and all but I'll be damned if I'm just going to ignore the possibility of having you back in the flesh. If _anyone_ is going to be '_**using**__ you for their own agenda_' with this heart it's going to be _**me**_." She said determinedly.

Puck couldn't keep the shocked questions from tumbling from his lips; he wasn't usually the type to pry but… "Whoa, whoa, whoa, _whoa_…so let me get this straight…you two ain't ever…? I mean you _never even_...? And he _still_...?" He stammered.

Cordy pressed her lips together, nodding to him that it was true.

Puck turned to Doyle and gave him a look that needed no words; it was the '_dude, come on!'_ look.

Doyle, however, still couldn't get his mouth to close as his eyes passed between Cordy and the bed; _talk about waving a steak in front of a starving man_. The wish to be able to touch Cordelia perceptibly even to hold her hand or kiss her forehead in his current state was staggering, but…_that?_ He'd never even allowed himself to consider the possibility of finally having _that_ – was too painful to hope for something you wanted so much but knew you could never have. He was just starting to stammer a response when Puck spoke up.

"He's _so_ in." Puck said quickly and Cordy laughed, having a feeling she'd probably stunned Doyle into silence.

She grinned triumphantly. "Puck, turn around." She said, watching his confused expression as he complied. "Doyle?" She said with a smile, batting her eyelashes and curling her finger. He slowly approached her and watched her close her eyes and point at her lips.

Doyle groaned in longing and uttered a curse as he stared at her mouth; Puck stared at the wall wondering if he was missing a strip tease or something.

Concentrating as hard as he could Doyle leaned down to her; it was difficult to accomplish what she was asking for. Dennis was only able to manipulate the surroundings because he'd lived and _died_ within the confines of this apartment – he was part of the energy of this place – were he to leave it he'd be as vaporous as Doyle was. He wasn't sure how he'd accomplished the breakdown in the hospital, moving countless objects at once like he had – but then again hearing Cordelia screaming in such anguish hadn't left him in a very lucid frame of mind…

So maybe he was just thinking too hard about it, maybe if he just went with it he'd have better results. Their lips were only an inch apart and he closed his eyes, recalling the taste of her when he'd kissed her goodbye, the feeling of it, letting his desire to relive it wash over his senses as he closed the distance between them.

Cordelia gasped and moaned in surprise when it worked – she could actually _feel_ his lips against hers, they were cold and the sensation instantly set her hairs on end, the dead were not meant to touch the living in such a way…but it was _Doyle_…she was _kissing_ _**Doyle**_.

The ecstatic squeal that left her as he pulled away echoed through the apartment, Wesley and Angel's heads both came up as they looked toward the bedroom in confusion. Doyle laughed, staring at adoringly.

"He says, _'I'll take that as a compliment'_." Puck relayed, trying not to wonder too much about what was going on behind him.

"_No_ – you'll take it as _incentive_, mister." Cordelia said with a grin.

"He says, _'I've gotten __**plenty**__ of that, princess… by the way, I don't actually have to open the door as it turns out – I just walk through it'_."

Cordelia's jaw dropped and she let out a feigned indignant gasp. "So I have a perverted _ghost_ for a boyfriend…" She said with a laugh as she walked to the door, not like she hadn't operated under the assumption this whole time that he was there with her anyway. She was sure there'd been a few times she'd gotten undressed in such a fashion it would have caused him to faint if it were at all possible. "Now let's go see if we can bring that down to just a plain old perverted _flesh and blood _boyfriend."

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	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

The hours went by as they poured over the boring texts. Puck passed out on the couch, Wesley with his face on the table but Angel and Cordelia kept at it. The hope that this could work drove them on into the early afternoon.

A knock at the door brought Puck to an upright position instantly, Wesley letting out a loud snort as he sat up muttering something about the average life expectancy of a Kaliff demon. Cordelia curled her lip at him and looked over at Angel. "God, even his _dreams_ are boring." She said, shaking her head and going to answer the door, giving Puck's shoulder a light squeeze and exchanging smiles with him as she passed.

"You may be the first witch to be nominated for_ sainthood!_" Angel heard Cordelia squealing and walked into the living room, unable to contain his smile as Willow entered with a box of donuts in hand. She waved at him and grinned. He sighed contentedly as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorway, happier than he would have anticipated seeing her familiar face.

"I come bearing standard research rations – of the extra sugary variety." She announced but was cut short. "Oh…_okay_…" She gasped, her eyes widening in surprise as Cordelia hugged her excitedly. "Angel? What did you do with the _real_ Cordelia?" She asked over her shoulder in a strained voice as she was nearly squeezed to death.

Cordy let her go and laughed. "I'm just _really_ happy you came." She confessed, trying not to let the waterworks start up again.

Willow gave her a tight-lipped smile and turned as Tara stepped in behind her. "Cordelia, this is _Tara_…" She said and Tara smiled shyly and waved. Willow gave Cordy a private grin – she'd gushed to her on the phone about Tara endlessly in the past few months.

"It's great to finally meet you, Tara." Cordelia said with a warm smile as she hugged her. "Willow's told me so much about you."

"Yeah…you, too." Tara said meekly, though her smile widened considerably at the welcome.

After Doyle's death Willow and Cordelia had been talking _a lot_, it surprised them both how much they'd missed each other and were able to commiserate with one another. Willow spent countless hours trying to comfort Cordy as she grieved and after all that she'd heard about this Doyle character (especially the effect he'd had on the once snottiest bitch she'd ever known) she looked forward to the chance to help bring him back.

A soft clearing of throat came from outside the doorway and Angel and Cordelia looked up in surprise as another familiar face entered the apartment.

"Oh…" Willow said with a nervous laugh. "I'm sorry, I went to get a few books and he caught me…you know you can't get anything by – "

"_Giles!_" Cordelia squealed and pounced on him, hugging him exuberantly. He laughed in surprise at her reaction, hugging her back as he smiled.

"Giles?" Came Wesley's nervous voice as he entered the living room.

"It's so good to see you, Cordelia." Giles said in a warm tone and held her tightly as she clung to him. He was like the patriarch of them all and Cordy was in desperate need of the reassurance his presence offered. She stayed under his arm after she'd relaxed her grip enough to allow him to breathe, her arms still wrapped around his stomach as if to prevent him from leaving and he smiled down at her, marveling at the difference he could see in her. The long drive over had allowed Willow to talk nearly non-stop, filling him in on almost every detail about Cordelia's life in L.A., everything about Doyle and his death, about the visions and helping Angel with his continued atonement. She'd been through a great deal – the sudden onslaught of poverty, losing a man she loved deeply, taking on visions for the good of complete strangers…all of it had an unexpectedly positive effect on her personality it would appear.

"Angel." Giles said once he tore his eyes from this new and improved version of Cordelia and the two inclined their heads to one another respectfully. His features tensed in annoyance though when he focused on the face peering out from behind Angel's shoulder. "_Wesley_." He uttered in a flat tone as if the name alone left a foul taste in his mouth and rolled his eyes in disgust.

Puck's laughter broke in on the group and he waved apologetically as everyone looked over at him. "I'm sorry; Doyle says he likes Giles already." Wesley arched a brow and pouted slightly as Puck continued. "He says he's very pleased to meet you all and hopes you'll not think him rude for not shaking your hands."

Willow beamed and whispered to Cordelia as she swayed from left to right happily, "_We like Doyle already, too_."

Giles removed his glasses and cleaned them, smiling down at Cordelia in wonder again since she was still attached to his side, grinning up at him. "First things first, before any questions are asked we didn't tell the others we were coming here…as far as they are concerned we are at a convention for witchcraft that is being held a few miles away and may be there for a few days." He informed them and looked over at Angel purposefully; it was a polite means of letting him know Buffy wouldn't be showing up unexpectedly. He watched relief pass over the vampire's features. "I've been warning these two of the dangers of practicing their magic for such powerful spells and didn't want to be a complete hypocrite if I allowed them to do anything unsupervised. Ordinarily I would have been expressly opposed to what you are trying to do here…but given the supernatural circumstances surrounding Doyle's death, his visions, his sacrifice and link to the Powers That Be…I must admit I'm every bit as eager to give this a try as they are. I figured you wouldn't mind the assistance."

Cordelia gave him a big squeeze at that. "We're thrilled that you came, all of you. Come in – we've got everything set up in the dining room."

They huddled around the table, bringing chairs from the living room to meet the sudden need and clearing the counter to make room for the books they'd brought. Coffee was passed out and the donuts were devoured quickly before Willow and Giles started the questions.

"He was killed after coming in contact with an item of magic, yes?" Giles asked.

"Well it was a light created by pure demons with the purpose of destroying everything with human blood…I'm doubting they picked up the components for it at a local hardware store." Angel explained.

Giles smiled and nodded. "I would imagine not."

"So Doyle…" Willow began, her brows drawing a bit at the strangeness of addressing the ghost of someone she'd never met in such a way but she ignored it. "You had an amulet of binding created by a warlock prior to your death?" She asked, sipping her coffee as she flipped through the book in front of her. "Do you remember any of the words you read or maybe ones that he said when he was performing the rites?"

Puck looked over at the archway, staring at the man no one else could see in confusion. "Like I'm supposed to be able to pronounce that?" He asked incredulously, his face changing to feigned offense a second later. "Alright, now that's just uncalled for." He said and the others exchanged smiles. "Fine…just go slow and I'll see how bad I can slaughter that…uh huh…'_pahna eti…'_ then something like, _'arucci'_…"

Giles mercifully held up a hand to cut him off, hearing a demon speaking with a _New York _accent repeating words being relayed by an _Irishman_ in a long dead dialect of a species of _wraiths_ was torture. Puck had been accurate in his prediction that he would slaughter the language. "Yes, that will do perfectly, thank you. So he performed a ritual of Et Fa'har, complex and difficult magic to wield. This friend of yours is not someone to be trifled with, I'm sure."

"He says he's got a lot of friends in low places." Puck said with a grin. "And might I point out that I happen to be one of them."

Giles turned in his chair, removing his glasses as he looked over at him. "Indeed, I hear you yourself are a Sermoporta. It is rare to come across your kind in our dimension…and in a human form, no less."

"Yeah well, can't say I'm crazy about this body but it's the only one that was available at the time. I mean, not too many people are bad enough to forfeit their right to existence. He was up for grabs so I get by with him. It's fine as long as I avoid the East coast – like _entirely_ – he did all his damage there. This was just supposed to be a onetime deal…but hey, you can't let a guy see the bikini babes here and expect him to stay away." Puck laughed. "There's plenty to keep me busy, though. I can still work from this side."

"I'm certain you can." Giles breathed in such an impressed manner that Willow, Tara and Cordelia all looked Puck over appraisingly, wondering just what it was about this guy that left him so awestricken. Giles' voice drew their attention again as he continued. "So Doyle, I take it you provided something of Cordelia for the amulet?"

Cordelia looked over at Puck with an arched brow and crossed her arms over her chest. "What exactly did he provide 'of me'?" She asked.

"Hair from the brush you keep in your desk, chica – in your line of work I'd strongly suggest keeping an eye on stuff like that." Puck said with a laugh.

Giles smirked and continued. "Yes, that would have been sufficient. Alright, so there would have been the usual markings drawn on the vessel, the reading of the proper incantations…" He said, wondering to himself how the Irishman with '_an accent that made Cordelia go all warm and fuzzy_', according to Willow, had managed to speak the required words in such a difficult dialect – for it to be working he had to have done it to perfection. Then again, he was obviously crazy enough about Cordelia to learn proper pronunciation if he willingly endured the agony of the ritual. "The blood offering would have been made, a section of living flesh would have been cut away to perform the binding upon and placed within the amulet after it was complete…"

Cordelia choked and spit out her coffee; instantly Wesley, Willow, Tara and Giles were all shielding the books and giving her disapproving looks like a pack of protective parents.

"_Excuse_ me? A section of _what-ing __**what**_ was _what_ and placed _within_ the _**what**_?" She demanded with wide eyes.

Wesley answered the question without thought, not taking into account the need to be delicate about the subject. "Well of course the amulet would require a piece of the person's _living_ corporal form to bind their soul to, it would have been cut from the body during the ritual in the most painful manner to ensure – "

The more Wesley spoke the greener Cordelia's complexion seemed to be getting and Angel held up a hand. "Okay, let's just…I think we can spare the more colorful details, right?" He asked with a sigh, giving everyone at the table pleading looks.

"_Eewwww_…**Doyle**! You have me wearing _skin_ jewelry?" Cordelia shuttered as her entire body felt like it was crawling, she took off the necklace and pressed it into Angel's expectantly outstretched palm – not finding the friendly looking heart to be quite so Hallmark-y in that moment. "Oh God, I'm friggin Angelina Jolie…but at least with her and Billy Bob it was just _blood!_" She clutched her stomach and walked out into the living room, lying on the couch and trying to keep herself from getting sick as the others went on with the research.

After a few moments of her imagination playing out what he'd done she felt the wind rushing across her forehead and looked up, knowing without seeing that she was staring into his eyes. "Puck's right, you really are a crazy little Irish bastard." She breathed and shook her head. The disgust was gone from her features now; all that remained was sadness and love for him. That he'd done something so incredibly stupid and apparently _agonizing_ to ensure he could protect her was flattering and heartbreaking in the same instant. She smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes as she felt his presence caressing her cheek. "I love you, Doyle." She whispered. "You're a _dumbass_, but I love you…disturbingly even more for it."

She heard the others continuing their discussion in hushed tones in the dining room and fortunately couldn't make out the words.

"The big concern here is whether we can make an attempt without destroying the link. Doyle's adamant that he won't let this go forward unless we can guarantee he'll still be around to protect Cordy if it goes wrong." Angel said quietly.

"_Aawww_…." Willow and Tara breathed in unison. "He sounds like such a great guy." Willow whispered and Angel nodded.

"He is….he really, _really_ is." Angel whispered, his eyes giving away how much he missed his friend.

"Well as long as we don't use all of the fle – " Wesley began, stopping to ensure Cordelia wasn't in earshot, leaning closer to them before continuing. "All of the _flesh_…we can keep that link intact."

Giles nodded in agreement. "We should be able to perform a Ritual of Raising without destroying all of it. Willow and Tara will be more than capable of opening the amulet to remove a portion and resealing it again without disturbing the spell that's in place."

"Guaranteed?" Angel asked, his expression severe as he looked around the faces at the table and waited for them to nod.

"Darn tootin', that part's easy. It's the summoning and restoring that's difficult…" Willow said and gave Angel a hopeful smile. "But we're willing to give it our best, it's gonna be draining and we might be sleeping a lot afterward…so as long as you can deal with two tuckered out witches hanging around we should be just fine."

Angel smiled at her warmly, his features softer in that moment than she could ever recall them being. He was almost (_gasp_) letting them get closer to him. Willow marveled to herself how much impact this Doyle guy had on people she'd known for so many years.

"Thank you, Willow – Tara. I know how exhausting this is going to be on you both and it means a lot to me and Cordelia. Doyle…_was_…" He tried but stopped, the grief once again stabbing at him and the girls both gave him understanding looks. "It really means a lot." He finished.

"Hey, not a problem – he was one of the good guys." Willow said with a grin.

Giles nodded. "Yes, _so_ good in fact that Cordelia has failed to make a single snide remark since we've arrived."

Willow held up her hand as if this was a prime example. "See? That alone makes him worth resurrecting in my book."

By sunset the group of brains in the dining room had used their shared knowledge, experience and texts to come up with a list of items they'd need to procure. When they all stood Cordelia opened her eyes and realized she'd fallen asleep to the feeling of Doyle's hand ghosting over her hair soothingly, he was getting better at making contact but she was more than ready for the real thing. She stood and approached, her stomach tying itself in excited knots seeing the warm smile on Giles' lips, the hope dancing in Angel's eyes, the beaming grins on Tara and Willow's faces.

"Alright, Puck, you said you can get your hands on the blood of a Jorvack demon…" Angel began and Puck nodded.

"He'll whine like a baby about giving it but the bastard owes me…also, if you want to write me a list I can hand to them I'll swing by the magic shop right around the corner from my place to pick up whatever herbs and stuff you're gonna need." Puck said as he pulled on his jacket.

"Oh, but you can't just let them _give_ it to you – they'll try and offload whatever's been sitting on the shelf the longest and everything has to be fresh…" Willow began worriedly.

"Except for the Myrrh, you have to make sure that's been aged properly or it won't work." Tara added and Willow nodded in agreement.

Angel sighed. "Okay, Tara, Willow – you go with Puck and make sure the ingredients are right. Giles, Wesley – you two come with me to find a safe location for the ritual and…"

Cordelia cut in. "Well what am _**I**_ supposed to do? I'm not just gonna sit here feeling all useless."

Puck grinned. "Plenty of room in the car, chickie. Doyle can even squeeze in, too." He pointed at Angel, reminding him to hand the heart back over to its rightful owner and watching her put it back around her neck. His face twisted and he glared over at the wall where Doyle was currently leaning. "_You_ shut up, it doesn't smell _that_ bad."

"And hey, in a few hours we might all be able to hear Doyle busting on you – to, you know, not let you have all the fun." Willow said and grinned over at a thoroughly excited Cordelia.

* * *

**If you read it, FEED it! :D**


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

They set out and Doyle had been right, Puck's car had a rather strong aroma of long since spilt beer and entirely too many cigarettes smoked with the windows up but they managed. Puck took them to the shop and told them he'd be right back, going around the corner to his apartment building to see his unsuspecting blood donor and leaving them to select the long list of items.

Angel, Wesley and Giles went down to the docks to see who Angel could rattle into allowing them use of their building for the evening. Apparently this was going to be a large spell and they hadn't figured it could be contained by within the walls of Cordelia's apartment. They'd finally settled on a location when an odd ringing caused them all to look around in confusion – it took Angel several seconds to realize it was his still unfamiliar cell phone.

"Hello." He answered as he pressed it to his ear, only to realize he still had to push the button to accept the call. He growled that he was too old to be learning this type of thing and tried again as Giles smirked. "Yes? Hello?"

"Angel – it's Gunn" said the voice on the other end of the line and he prayed to himself that he wasn't about to ask for a favor. True he owed Gunn a lot for all of his help but tonight was not a good night for repayment.

"Gunn – what can I do for you?" He asked, rubbing his face as he walked a short distance from the others.

"Hey…got some intel a second ago I thought you ought to know about." Gunn began and Angel could hear vampires being ashed in the background. He figured the description of '_a second ago_' was extremely accurate which made him instantly worry about what might have drawn such a timely response.

"Shoot." Angel said quickly.

"Well your girl over there – the one that we were watching over at the hospital – does she get visions?" Gunn asked.

"Cordelia – yes, why?" Angel asked quickly.

"Seems your friends at Evil, Inc. are up to something involving her. Got one of the vamps I'm taking down right now to squeal and he said they were looking for her. She's wearing some type of jewelry or something they think they can use to hurt you. These guys didn't know much other than bringing it to Wolfram & Hart is gonna be a _serious_ payday…and Angel…they were told to get it by _any_ means necessary." Gunn told him in a severe tone.

Angel was instantly racing back to his car, waving for Wesley and Giles to hurry up and get in. "Thanks, Gunn." He said, ending the call as he started the engine and peeled out.

_How did they know about it? _He wondered frantically but realized they'd sent one of their summoned demons to open Cordelia's mind to the suffering of the world just a few days prior. The demon had touched her, had been close enough to sense Doyle's presence. His mind was racing as he dialed. _Wolfram & Hart was already on a mission to bring him down and they obviously weren't above performing rituals to bring new enemies for him if that box had been any indication…if they knew what the amulet was…what it could do…they might bring back Doyle to_…

He pressed down harder on the pedal.

* * *

"That's everything…" Willow said, checking off the list as they went to the counter. "I even got extra ashwaganda to be safe."

"Is this stuff supposed to smell so horrible?" Cordelia asked, turning her nose up at a bag of roots she was carrying and Tara laughed.

"Yes, the stronger the smell, the more potent the magical properties will be." Tara explained and Cordy curled her lip.

"Then these are some _seriously_ powerful…brown…things…" She said, holding the bag away from herself.

"Shouldn't Puck be back by now?" Willow asked as Cordelia paid, looking down at her watch again and frowning.

* * *

Puck had managed to coax the demon living across the hall out of a vial of blood like one would borrow a cup of sugar from their neighbor; he thanked him profusely for the help, promised to buy him a brew the next time they were out and avoided explaining what it was to be used for. He'd gotten halfway down the stairs before something leapt onto his back, sending him tumbling the remaining way to the marble floor below. Before he'd even opened his eyes his attackers were punching and kicking him, finally stopping once his head felt like it was going to burst from the pain. He sniffed the air, _vamps and there were several others closing in around him_.

"You've been helping the one they call Angel, Puck…not such a wise move on your part." A man growled. "Since you've been so cozy with him you're going to tell me what I need to know. The girl, she's wearing a jewel of some sort that is worth a pretty penny to some very influential people. What does it look like and where can we find her?" He demanded, lifting Puck by his throat to a standing position.

* * *

"Come on! Pick up!" Angel screamed as he got Cordelia's voicemail again. She'd left her phone in Puck's car accidentally, was too happy about possibly getting Doyle back to be thinking clearly.

"Let me try." Giles offered, pulling a cell phone from his pocket and dialing Willow quickly.

The theme song from Bewitched started and Cordelia smirked at Willow as she pulled her cell free from her purse. "Hey Giles!" She said as they pushed through the glass doors and exited the shop.

"Willow! Thank heavens, where are you girls?" He asked and Angel breathed a small sigh of relief that they'd finally gotten through.

"We're at Trickster's Treasures and Trinkets at…." She looked for a sign. "The corner of Murdock and Goldview…" She heard Giles quickly repeat the location for Angel. "How come?" She asked worriedly.

"Willow, it's just come to our attention that you all may be in rather serious danger – there are dark forces coming after that amulet and…" He rambled but Willow cut him off.

"And by dark forces… would you mean like a pack of vampires all snarly and mean faced?" She asked in a tiny voice as Tara and Cordelia backed closer to her, their paths being blocked now from all sides as a veritable mob closed in around them.

"Yes exactly like – _Willow?_ Are they there now?" He asked and Angel looked over at him fearfully. She managed a terrified, '_uh huh_' in response. "Listen to me – you all must stay very close to Puck!" He urged her frantically but all she could manage in response was '_you'd better hurry'_ before hanging up.

As if answering Giles' request a bloody-faced Puck was hauled before them by his throat, the vampire holding him glared at them menacingly. "Where's the bracelet and which one of you bitches has it?" He demanded.

Cordelia had just started to open her mouth to ask what he was talking about when Willow caught the look on Puck's face and jumped in. She pressed a hand over the mood-stone on her wrist and cast a quick glamour on it. "You'll never get it!" She screamed in a voice that sounded a lot braver than she was feeling in that moment, removing her hand and noting that all of the vampires' eyes went to the now glowing stone.

Puck was thrown to the ground, groaning and clutching his ribs as the vampire smirked. "_Really?_ Willing to bet your life on that?" He asked her as he approached.

Willow's resolve faltered once he was towering over the three of them. "Umm…no…not exactly…" She squeaked.

* * *

**MUSIC:**  
"Forest Chase" by Corner Stone Cues

* * *

Tara reached past Cordelia who was standing between them and grabbed Willow's hand before the vampire had a chance to react, the two of them unleashing a bolt of power and sending him backward into the crowd. Cordelia stared at the girls in amazement and they grinned.

"But we'd wager a few bucks…" Tara told the vampire who was struggling to get back to his feet.

The vampires all rushed them and Cordelia lost her bearings as the fighting began, Tara and Willow were at her sides letting off orbs of light that had all the force on impact of small missiles but the bastards just kept pushing in around them. She could sense Doyle at her back, could see that dozens of the vampires were being sent sailing, others seemed to be hitting an unseen wall as they tried to approach but there were so many of them…

Finally one got through, it was all it took, gripping Willow by her throat as Tara shrieked and tried to fight him off…

And it was all Puck had needed.

A deafening growl that shook the ground beneath their feet caused everyone – vamp, witch and human alike to freeze. With wide eyes every face turned to find the small and seemingly defenseless Puck at the center of the crowd transforming into something…

_**BIG**_**.**

Wings stretched skyward, so massive they blocked out the streetlights as he grew larger by the second, rising to heights rivaling the buildings around them. He looked like some hellish version of a gargoyle, his grey flesh stretched across an impossibly sinewy and muscular form. His hands and feet were now the size of the attackers themselves; the black talons that graced each of his fingers were razor sharp and tore through the vampires surrounding the women with ease.

Spelled words were leaving him in a booming voice; the vamp still clutching Willow by the throat could only stare in wide eyed terror as the demon pointed at him and snarled. With one final word of damnation a fireball erupted from Puck's palm and was hurled at the offender.

Cordelia and Tara both shrieked and tried to shield Willow…but the flames were cool to them; they had been conjured for one being and one being alone. Agonized screams left the vampire as he fell to ash. Willow collapsed to the ground clutching her throat and coughing as the other two protected her from the violence Puck was unleashing around them.

Angel turned the corner and slammed on the brakes, tires screeching as the car skid to a halt. His eyes bulged as he focused on the winged terror that was blocking the road and hurling fireballs from its hands. "_What in the name of_…" Angel breathed.

"It's Puck!" Giles called over the sounds of the battle as they all jumped out of the car. "And it's alright, he won't harm any of us – we need to get to the girls!"

"There!" Wesley screamed, pointing past a flaming wreck of a vehicle that had been tossed aside to where the three were huddling together beside a building.

They raced to them, Angel noted the way the girls were shielding Willow and picked her up as she still gasped for air, cradling her to his chest protectively as fear for what had been done to her gripped him. Giles and Wesley grabbed the bags of magic items and shielded Cordelia and Tara from the rubble and debris that were raining down on them. Just as quickly they were rushing back to the car, loading the girls into it.

"Are you alright?" Angel asked, staring at Willow with wide, terrified eyes as he pulled her hand away from her throat looking for punctures or lacerations and she nodded. "Okay – I'm gonna go help Puck…" He stole a glance back down the street and winced as a gas main exploded, sending a massive fireball skyward. "As much as he doesn't seem to need it…if things get bad you get them out of here, got it?" He said to Giles, pointing for him to get behind the wheel in case they needed to make a hurried escape.

"You'll find no argument here." Giles said and watched Angel racing back toward the battle.

Puck was doing just fine on his own. It seemed Angel had only killed five or six vamps before the street was clear of them. He watched in amazement, his jaw hanging open as the beast turned and started toward him, quickly shrinking in size with each step until it was just a markedly nude but otherwise unharmed Puck standing before him.

"Holy _shit_." Angel breathed, shaking his head and smiling at him. "Someone my age should be able to come up with something more intelligent to say, I'm sure, but that's my reaction at the moment."

"Well put." Puck laughed and went to retrieve the vial of blood from the tattered remnants of his clothes in the street. "You mind lending me your coat so I don't traumatize the girls? My car seems to be…" He said, motioning to one of the flaming wrecks.

"Sure…anything you want after that." Angel laughed in astonishment as he peeled it off his shoulders and handed it over. "So…_yeah_. What was…" he pointed upwards at the size Puck had just been, "all that about?"

"Sermoporta - _gateway _demon, remember? Just supposed to be a guardian but in this dimension anybody tries to take a soul out in a manner ain't in the mystical cards I get to stop it. Wasn't Willow's time to cross the threshold. Unfortunately I can't change at will, gotta wait for it to be needed." Puck explained.

"Well I'm glad you're on our side." Angel breathed, clapping him on the back as they returned to the car.

"It's gonna be a tight squeeze…" Puck observed. "Wesley – me, you and Doyle are riding bitch on this one." He said, but noting the confusion on Wesley's face he knocked on the trunk. "Angel – do us a favor and keep it under the speed of light so this thing don't close and knock us unconscious, k?"

"But there'd be enough room in the backseat for one more, I'm sure." Wesley began and Angel arched a brow at him as he opened the trunk.

"_Fine_, Doyle can sit next to Cordy." He said with a smirk, not waiting for Wesley to come up with an argument before walking around to the driver's side door, waiting for Giles to move over to the passenger seat and climbing behind the wheel.

* * *

**To read is fine, to REVIEW is divine! ;)**


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

It was a slow ride back to Cordelia's apartment; once they arrived Angel carried Willow up the stairs with Tara at his side. He laid her on the couch and Cordy rushed into the kitchen to get the usual first aid items, hurrying back and kneeling in front of a paler than usual Willow. "Are you alright? Oh my God you were so amazing, both of you." She said in a trembling voice, not knowing what to do to make the vicious looking bruising feel better. _Ice? Heat?_ She looked to Tara for guidance.

"She's gonna be fine, aren't you, baby?" Tara said softly, putting her hands over Willow's throat and letting her magic heal the injuries.

Willow sighed in relief a moment later as the pain was lifted and smiled around the room. "I'm okay, really."

"Puck – I'm going to have to ask that the next time you decide to turn into a building-sized _gargoyle_ you give a little warning in advance…I think my heart stopped for a minute there…but that was incredible!" Cordelia said in astonishment.

Puck waved it off modestly. "No prob, and hey, Irish lover boy over here did his part, too. I see we're learning how to respond to threats, huh?" Puck said, inclining his head to where Doyle was kneeling beside Cordelia…but he wasn't in a celebratory mood apparently; he was still looking at Willow worriedly. "Doyle…_Doyle_…she's _alright_, man." He offered but Doyle wasn't convinced. "_Whoa_, let's not be hasty here." Puck said, his eyes widening.

"What's he saying?" Angel asked but he already had an idea.

Puck gritted his teeth. "He's saying it shouldn't have happened. The whole point of creating that amulet was to help keep Cordelia safe, not to put her and her friends in danger – that bringing him back isn't worth risking everyone else's lives…and some other awful things I'm not repeating."

Angel's face twisted in sadness; he knew Doyle, he was saying that if the amulet was going to put them in jeopardy then they should destroy it – that he wasn't worth all of this. Giles gave Angel a sympathetic look and sighed, the reasons for them wanting to bring Doyle back so much seemed to get clearer each time his words were relayed.

"Hey…" Willow whispered, gauging by where Puck was staring to look Doyle in the face she couldn't see, frowning at him as she continued with sad eyes. "Don't say that, Doyle. We're not giving up because of a little fighting; didn't Cordelia tell you we grew up on a Hellmouth? This stuff is normal for us. We're gonna make this work – you'll see."

Tara smiled warmly and followed Willow's gaze to look at Doyle as well. "Yeah – us good guys stick together, right? And we didn't do too terribly, I think."

"He says you were both _amazing_…and that bit with the bracelet was brilliant." Puck said with a grin and Willow and Tara laughed.

"What bracelet?" Angel asked in curiosity, stepping aside as Wesley took the bags of ingredients into the dining room to make sure none had been damaged.

Puck smiled over at him. "Well when they were putting the hurting on me they kept asking about the 'jewel' and 'gem' and 'amulet' and what it looked like…I realized they didn't have a clue what they were after so I lied and said it was a bracelet since I'd seen the girls were all wearing different kinds. Figured if worst came to worst they'd steal the wrong thing. When they asked for a bracelet Willow over there figured out why I'd said it, put a spell on hers and made it shiny for them. Bought us time and totally distracted them from Cordelia and the necklace."

Cordelia hugged them tightly and sighed. "You were both so brave!" She whispered. "And check you out Tara with your '_we'd wager a few bucks_' line!"

"Best we wait until tomorrow night so these two can rest up – they've just used a great deal of energy and with as draining as this spell is going to be we need them back to full capacity." Giles said as he chewed the arm of his glasses thoughtfully.

"And now we're going to need back up – I feel guilty asking Gunn for help _again_ but I don't have a choice, with Wolfram & Hart closing in on us we'll need the manpower." Angel added.

"Yeah, all good plans…good plans…" Puck said as he nodded in feigned interest, then arched a brow and added, "You think I could cut in on the plotting and _maybe_ bother someone for some clothes?" He asked with a smirk. "I'm feelin a bit like a flasher over here." Angel smiled and went to the closet that held most of his belongings to retrieve something for Puck to put on. "Oh, and Doyle says not to forget to bring him something in case this thing works tomorrow, says he doesn't want to show up stark naked, have Cordy get a look at him and ask if she can send him back." Puck teased. "Okay, I may have added in that last part…" He confessed.

Tara's brows drew in confusion and she was speaking aloud before she thought it through. "Well it's not like she hasn't already seen…" She began, but when she looked up at the expression on Cordelia's face she stopped. "Wait, you mean you two _never even_…?" She asked in astonishment and Cordy shook her head.

Puck snapped his fingers and pointed at Doyle. "See? That's _exactly_ what my reaction was, too!"

"Oh dear…" Giles breathed in disbelief, then guiltily cleared his throat and averted his eyes as if his reaction hadn't actually been uttered aloud.

"_Really?"_ Wesley asked in amazement as he returned from the dining room. "I would have thought they'd _surely_…"

Even _Dennis_ was staring at Doyle in slack-jawed shock. He might not be from this day and age but he watched enough television to realize how strange the news of a lack of consummation was – and with the ritual he'd gone through?

"Nope, nothing…" Willow said, her eyes going out of focus as she spoke in a dreamy tone. "Nada, zip, zero, zilch…and he _still_ went and let them cut off skin and stuff so he could be with her after he died." She said, letting out a little contented sigh at the fluffy romance of it all.

Puck was too busy laughing to relay Doyle's heated and indignant outburst as he paced the room.

'_Alright, would everyone just stop worryin so much about the sex part of the equation? I mean how many times are we gonna bring this up in one day? I might be dead but it's still a delicate subject – and Cordy, you're not helping matters either, princess. Couldn't you just lie and say I ravaged you or something? Just tell'em I was a real bastard, got you drunk and had my way with you – it'll put an end to the pity party going on in here for my eternal damnation to abstinence…' _

He stopped mid-step, realization and outrage passing over his face as he pointed at himself and stammered, _'Son of a bitch…it's __**me**__ now! I'm __**Angel**__, man! __**I'm**__ the 'can't get laid' guy!'_

"Oh my _God!_" Puck managed through his laughter, waving at everyone that was staring at him. "Let's drop it; please, my stomach can't take any more!"

They all cleared their throats and muttered their agreement to avoid the topic…though Giles had to lead Wesley into the dining room by his arm for a discussion as he continued falling back on astonished outbursts of, "But _really?_" every few minutes or so.

Everyone got to work setting up makeshift beds and the guys filled the floor, chairs and couch in the living room. Angel, of course, volunteered for first watch while the others tried to get some sleep.

The girls went to Cordelia's bedroom, lying awake for several hours excitedly discussing what the ritual would entail. Cordy had given Willow and Tara her bed – these two were gonna try and bring back Doyle for her and had just fought to keep her and the amulet safe, they could _have _it. When she finally started to drift off on a sleeping bag on the floor she sensed Doyle's presence lying behind her and sighed. She said a silent prayer that the following night she would finally get to feel him holding her tightly, that his warm arms would be there to tell her it was all over and he was never leaving her again.

* * *

**If you read it, FEED it! :D **


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13**

The next day couldn't go by fast enough for Cordelia. No matter how intensely she stared at the clock willing it to hurry time simply continued to move its own pace, completely disregarding her wishes. All day long her apartment was overflowing with people coming and going, Gunn and several members of his crew laying out plans for the evening with Angel. So many people were involved in the effort to bring Doyle back; it made her heart smile with appreciation but she wasn't feeling especially talkative today.

Fears were starting to coil in the pit of her stomach as she sat on the couch and watched them go. _What if it didn't work? What if they unintentionally broke the link and she lost him completely?_ These fears were the reasons Doyle hadn't intended on mentioning the possibility and she felt guilty – if the worst did happen it would be her fault, she'd lose him all over again and have no one to blame but herself. How would she live knowing that she'd sent him to the afterlife alone? That he was up there desperate for a way to get back to her? That she'd destroyed the link he'd endured so much to establish?

Angel and Puck weren't letting her sit in silence for more than a few moments at a time, seeing the worry creeping in on her and trying to distract her from it. Giles had come to sit with her for a while, teaching her words she'd need to say during the ritual and using it as a means of busying her mind. She'd caught the looks of appreciation Angel gave Giles for his efforts.

By the time the sun was finally setting she could hardly sit still, her heart was hammering in her chest and she was pacing the living room, wringing her hands anxiously. Puck smiled over at her. "It's a good thing he's not solid yet, the two of you would be bumping into each other with all that back and forth nonsense." Cordelia couldn't help but grin hearing that they were both doing the same thing.

"Alright, I believe we're all – " Giles began as he entered the living room and Cordelia was already grabbing his arm and starting toward the door. "Ready to go…some more than others, it would seem." He said with a laugh.

"Not seeing your boyfriend since his tragic and untimely death has a way of making a girl eager for a reunion." Willow said with a smirk as her and Tara gathered their bags.

Gunn was standing out in the hall waiting and Cordelia gave him a gleaming smile. "Thank you for what you're doing – I really appreciate it." She said and hugged him, leaving him to stare at the rest of the group in surprise and hold his hands up as they exited.

"Yeah, well you're welcome…but from what I hear you got an angry little Irish ghost watching over you so don't take offense to me not hugging you back." Gunn said, recalling that the hospital staff had been struggling to clean up a path of chaos leading from the room that held patients' belongings all the way to Cordelia's bed. Angel had explained to him on the phone that Doyle had been the cause for it, that he'd been desperate to reach her. Gunn was in no hurry to find out whether the guy was willing to toss him around like a wallet for touching her.

"Doyle says to let you know he thanks you, too – for the help and for not hugging Cordy." Puck relayed.

"We all set?" Angel asked as he exited and Gunn nodded as Cordelia finally released her hold on him.

"Got that building locked down tight – they come after us we'll be ready. You girls just better be able to pick up the pace if the fighting starts, get Angel's boy back in flesh and blood so we can tear ass outta there." Gunn warned and Willow and Tara nodded.

"I owe you, Gunn. One of these days you really need to ask for something back." Angel said.

Gunn shrugged and grinned. "Hey, man – every time you ask for help we know we'll be fighting some big evil, taking out a hell of a lot more than the few strays we pick off when we hunt. It's what we're trying to do any way; you just seem to attract them all to one place for us. We're more than happy to use you for bait…if it helps you out in the mean time it's win – win."

They descended the stairs and Cordelia couldn't recall feeling so nervous before. It was like auditions only far worse; she was excited about possibly having Doyle back, afraid to get her hopes up in case it wouldn't work, fearful of the depression she'd slip into if it wasn't to be, terrified of Doyle suffering heartache if they discovered it couldn't be done. She retreated into silence once she was seated in Angel's car, staring at the passing buildings with sad eyes, giving him a weak smile when he squeezed her hand and told her he was nervous, too.

Puck was in the back seat with Doyle on one side of him and Wesley on the other. He had to elbow the motor-mouthed British twit a few times to end his attempts to discuss insignificant subjects he foolishly hoped would ease the tension. Puck knew now was not the time to interrupt. He could see it on their faces; Angel, Doyle and Cordelia – they were all reliving the night Doyle had died in their memories, the wounds reopening as they drove toward the docks.

Angel could recall the way buildings had looked that night, ever so slightly unlike they did now to his perception since he'd suffered the loss of a friend. He'd been so stupid – should have done something differently, something faster or smarter. After all this time he still couldn't decide what that might have been. He was dealing with the same fears as Cordelia and Doyle in that moment. He was terrified that if he really _believed_, if he let even a _glimmer_ of hope surface that this could happen it wouldn't – that he'd be here with Cordy on the docks all over again, holding her to his chest as they both fell apart. Words were failing him and he'd fallen back on grunts and nods, thankful to find when they arrived that everyone seemed to understand and didn't expect a lot of conversation from him or Cordelia.

In his silent reflection he wandered to the second level of the warehouse, gripping the railing and looking down at the others. He was pleading with his mind not to see this as the interior of the ship from the night his life had been turned upside down, trying desperately not to imagine the light descending from the ceiling, the look of certainty in Doyle's eyes as he'd drawn back for that unexpected (_and_ _surprisingly powerful_) punch that had sent him sailing over the edge to the deck below. He rubbed his face as the memories replayed, willing them to leave him, forcing himself to stop reliving the grief and guilt and regret for what had come to pass, to see this for the current time and place, the hour when a wrong had the opportunity to be righted. The Powers That Be wouldn't help them but it didn't matter – they were going to do this themselves. He took a steadying breath and found his center, let his eyes pass over the faces of everyone present as they each worked, let them ground him to reality.

_Giles, Willow, Tara_…they'd driven all this way to help bring back someone they'd never even known, risked their lives for Doyle on Angel and Cordelia's word alone that he was a man worth saving, had kept the truth hidden from the others in order to come here without unnecessary drama. After all he had done when he'd turned evil they still believed in him, still cared for him and wanted to help him. It astounded him how kind their hearts were. Giles astonished him – after what he'd done to that man as Angelus the only thing he felt he deserved from him was a stake to the heart, not understanding. The fact that he'd come here without being asked was a shock; he was forever indebted to him no matter what happened tonight.

He watched as they finished removing a portion of the flesh from within the amulet and resealed it, heard Puck call out '_he's still here, worked like a charm girls!_' and sighed in relief. That was one obstacle down.

_Wesley_…he was right there with them, drawing symbols on the floor meticulously despite the stabs everyone always took at his expense, despite Doyle's distrust and Giles' loathing of him – he stood to gain nothing from this and yet here he was, side by side with them trying to make this work. He was a good man with something to prove – had lost his place in the world and seemed to be on a mission to discover himself here, to live as he wanted and not as he'd been told to. Angel had hope for the poor sap yet.

_Puck_…Angel smirked as he spotted him raiding a refrigerator along the back wall. There was a story to be heard one of these days, he knew. Why would a powerful being forsake its post to live in this dimension as a mortal man? He got the feeling it had to do with a girl – it always does. True, he'd been a friend to Doyle so he had a reason to want the guy back – but he'd also saved Willow's life just the night before, someone he knew nothing about and had only met a few hours beforehand. He'd kept her, Cordelia and Tara safe from harm when Angel was too far away to do it himself, wiped out a small army of vamps intent on killing the girls when he could have just cut and run the instant the heat was off him. He'd shied away from Cordelia's compliments, instantly wanting the focus off of himself when he'd been commended, completely uncomfortable with praise he didn't feel he deserved. He could see why Doyle and Puck got along – they were both heroes who mistakenly thought themselves to be subpar, worrying that they didn't have what it took because of their doubts or hesitance. In Angel's mind that was the part that most heroes struggled to understand, bravery isn't certainty that you can win – it's being afraid of something but doing it anyway simply because it's right. Judging by the bruising that was still evident on his face Angel knew he'd suffered a pretty severe beating before being taken to find the girls, he hadn't been able to change to protect himself but hadn't rolled over on Cordelia and Doyle to save himself from it. Angel decided he liked this Puck guy.

_Gunn_…they had yet to have a conversation that _didn't_ involve an imminent battle. Gunn busted on Angel about his lack of 'people skills' in a way that reminded him very much of Doyle, he figured the two would at least have that much in common if this thing worked. But aside from the willingness to jump in on any fight that pitted him against evil, Gunn seemed eager to help them personally. There was something in the way he'd responded to Angel's desperate need to protect Wesley and Cordelia when they'd been defenseless in the hospital. He'd set up such a solid line of defense even _Angel_ wasn't able to enter again afterward without Gunn giving the okay.

A smile crept across Angel's lips as he watched them all, the smile widening when he caught Doyle's scent at his side. He didn't need to check where Puck was to know Doyle was there. "You know…for someone who died you seem to have given me a whole lot of '_connections to the world_' since you've been gone." His eyes widened in surprise when he felt that familiar clap on his back and he laughed. "Hey, don't go getting too used to that ghost form of yours now…we're gonna make this work." Angel said, allowing hope to blossom despite his better judgment, nodding as he watched the circles being drawn at the center of the warehouse. "We've got the best team in the world here to pull it off."

Puck approached, belching and tossing a beer can aside. "He says, _'I can see that, must have told them how devilishly handsome I am'_."

Angel arched a brow and smirked. "What's with…?" He asked, motioning to the six-pack Puck was carrying.

"Oh, this…just getting the celebration underway a bit early; found these in the fridge over there…still a whole case left and the way I figure it if we're bringing Doyle back I better drink'em before he does." Puck said with a grin. "Then again…" He began, tilting his head to the side and following Doyle's gaze to where it was locked on one face. "I'm willing to bet he'll be pressing his lips to something considerably more appetizing than a can of beer for a good long time."

"I don't think I'll ever be happier to be stuck with Wesley." Angel said with a laugh. "You ready for this, Doyle?"

"He says, _'I've been ready for whatever it would take since the first time I laid eyes on her. It's gonna be…tough…but it'll be worth it'._" Puck relayed.

Angel sighed and shook his head, understanding the meaning of those words. "You're gonna have to come back through the pain you left in, aren't you?"

"Wait, _what_?" Puck said, looking at Doyle in surprise. "You gotta do _what_? And you _knew_ about this?" He asked and waited to relay the response, groaning at the answer to his question. "He says, _'to turn it back you gotta undo what was done. I just hope to God for Cordy's sake she won't be able to see it…wonder if there's something can be done about that…'_"

"_Jesus, _Doyle..." Angel breathed and ran a hand over his face. Seeing him incinerated from a distance and from behind had traumatized her enough. "I'll talk to Willow and Tara; see if they can shield her from it somehow. Why don't you go talk to Cordelia for a minute?" He suggested, seeing that she was standing with the girls on the platform going over the ritual again.

They approached and by some miracle he managed to separate Willow and Tara from the flock. "Listen…" He began, his eyes flicking over to ensure that Puck had led Cordy a good distance away. "When Doyle died…the way he _went_…it was…"

Tara gave him a sympathetic wince. "_Brutal?_" She offered.

Angel nodded solemnly. "He says he'll have to come back sort of in reverse…is that right?"

They looked at one another for a second as if considering it. "Yeah, that's about the gist of it." Willow said glumly.

"Well Doyle is wondering if there's a way to keep Cordelia from seeing it." Angel explained.

"Sure…we could just put up a shield, do a soft glowy light or something, right?" Willow asked.

"Yeah – that's simple enough to do, just keep it all pretty on her end." Tara said with a nod.

Willow smirked at Angel. "You know, most guys would probably be more concerned with trivial things like, oh say for instance the _agony of reliving their mortal death_ as opposed to stuff like this."

Angel nodded and smiled, muttering to them as he watched Cordelia and Puck approach, "If Doyle was 'most guys' we wouldn't be trying so hard to bring him back."

"So, you all ready for your big date?" Willow asked and watched Cordy's face light up. "I'd say that's a yes." Willow said to herself.

"Everything is in order." Giles called, watching Angel, Cordelia and Puck exchanged nervous looks. He smiled knowingly. "We'll start whenever you're ready."

"Oh God, what if I screw up?" Cordelia said suddenly and Angel shook his head.

"Cordy, you'll be just fine. You're –" Angel started in a comforting tone but she was breathing heavily now.

"What if I forget everything I'm supposed to say – or stretch and leave the circle – or _sneeze_ while I'm saying important parts of the spell – or…" Cordy rambled, her eyes growing wider with each scenario she rattled off.

Puck laughed. "Doyle says so long as you promise you'll still love him you can bring him back as a _toad_ and he'll be happy."

Cordelia's face fell in concern wondering if that was a possibility. "_Ooohhh God_…." She breathed, walking to the end of the platform, taking deep breaths as she sat down with her legs dangling off the edge.

Puck held up a hand to Angel and gave him a smile before following her. He sat down, leaving enough space between them for Doyle to take his place at her side. "He says, _'it's just like acting, princess…this is your stage, your debut but instead of a shiny trophy you'll be getting a charming, and not to mention madly in love with you, Irishman for your performance'._" Cordelia smiled and nodded and Puck laughed. "Wow, that helped? I figured it would have scared you off." He teased. "Doyle is telling me to shut up now, just so you know." Puck confided and she grinned. "He says, _'everything is gonna be just fine, love. You get through this and I promise I'll be spending every day after repaying you for it. Sound like a plan to you'?_"

She focused on what it would be like to look into those smiling eyes again, to hear his accent again, to curl up in bed with him for the first time and spend an entire weekend learning every possible way she could kiss him. A smile came to her face at the idea and she happily added it to her 'things to do with Doyle' list. She took a deep breath and stood with a renewed sense of purpose. "It sounds perfect to me. Let's do this thing." She said, her voice full of resolve.

Doyle didn't want to scare her but couldn't risk not speaking up now in case something went wrong; he came to the decision quickly. "He says to back up three steps and stay still." Puck relayed, giving Doyle a quizzical expression as Cordelia complied with the request. "He says to close your eyes….alright Doyle, now you're being a little creepy – _okay!_ Sorry, geesh I'm just saying…" Puck said, holding up his hands and watching Doyle step in front of her.

Cordelia smiled and closed her eyes, knowing what he was up to. She felt his hand on hers first and gasped as chilled fingers entwined with warm ones.

"_Whoa_…" Puck breathed in astonishment watching Doyle's form become clearer even in his own perception.

_Doyle was focusing everything he had on this contact, letting nothing in the world exist but the two of them, life and death and boundaries weren't going stop him. This might mean goodbye a second time around…he reached out and put his fingers under her chin, lifted her face slightly and smiled down at her lovingly. _

"Can you…_do you_…?" Willow was whispering, her eyes wide as she shoved Angel and Tara and everyone within reach excitedly.

The faintest outline of Doyle could be seen now in front of Cordelia and Angel couldn't stop grinning, "Yeah, Willow…we do…"

_Doyle brought his face down to hers slowly, pressing his lips to hers and running his hand through her hair as Cordelia sighed blissfully and leaned into his kiss. _

Willow was bouncing up and down with her mouth hanging open, pulling at Angel's coat and resisting the urge to squeal. Tara was at his other side, gripping his sleeve as she stared unblinkingly at Doyle and Cordelia. Angel fought not to laugh in astonishment.

_Doyle remained there for a moment, enjoying the sense of completion he got from her touch. With a great deal of persuasion he managed to end the kiss, smiling at the dreamy expression on her face before leaning down to her ear, pressing his lips to her hair and whispering,_ "I love you, princess."

Angel's brow arched as for the first time in months he heard the voice of his friend echoing through the room.

Cordelia opened her eyes in shock just in time to see his apparition fade. "I love you, too..." She breathed, her eyes wide as she grinned from ear to ear.

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	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14**

Willow couldn't take it anymore and raced over to her place for the ritual. "That's it. Let's get this guy solid again. That was the sweetest thing I've ever seen, I'm gonna be warm and fuzzy for three months _at least_."

Tara hurried over and took her spot across from Willow, ensuring that the portion of Doyle's living flesh was within his circle. She nodded to Willow that she was set, both of them grinning excitedly as Cordelia approached, took a deep breath and stepped into her circle. "Doyle, you're up." Tara called.

Puck stepped over beside Angel, turning his back to the others before muttering quietly. "Doyle says, '_if this…well…I just want you to know I'm glad to have met you. It's been an honor being your friend. You're a good man'_."

Angel shook his head and smiled. "It won't come to that…but I'm glad I met you too, Doyle…and I'm _still_ going to have the honor of being your friend if you'll quit standing around talking to me and go get yourself a heartbeat again."

"He says, '_fair enough'_." Puck said with a smile. He watched Doyle crossing the platform and taking his place across from Cordelia.

The symbols flashed to confirm his presence and Willow and Tara got to work. They lit the contents of the offering plate between the circles. The pungent aroma of its smoke reminded Cordy of the awful roots she'd had to carry around – in that moment it was the most pleasant smell she'd ever encountered.

* * *

**MUSIC:  
**"Pandora" by Conjure One

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Willow and Tara's voices raised together in chant, casting a binding over the platform, the circles and their symbols, protection over Cordelia and Doyle that would keep them safe and in place even if Wolfram & Hart blew up the entire building around them. It was Wesley's idea to add this spell – he'd spent hours tracking it down and teaching its language to the girls with Giles' aid. It was an added measure to prevent them from losing Doyle's soul in an unforeseen cataclysm.

Cordelia smiled feeling the magic tingling across her flesh; it gave all the comfort and reassurance of a loved one's embrace.

The girls stood and walked around them as they began the next spell, summoning all of the energy of Doyle's soul into the circle, preventing him from coming back without all of his essence in tact. The surprise of this step was that it rendered Doyle visible to everyone as he was in spirit form.

Angel and Cordelia both took sharp intakes of breath as the flashes of light being sucked into the circle gradually revealed his glowing form. Noting their reactions he smiled – knowing they could both see him now – and inclined his head to them slightly. His apparition was just as they remembered him, still dressed in that brown leather coat, that red shirt that had been taken from the world in the same instant as he had; the way he appeared was the way he still saw himself.

Cordelia felt the tears streaming down her cheeks but refused to make a sound or move a muscle, there was no way in hell she was messing this up. She could _**see**_ him, he was here and real. Soon enough she would be able launch at him and sob as she clung to him and the warmth of his living, breathing body…

Willow and Tara stood on either side of the space between the circles, chanting together and stretching their arms out as power began emanating from the four of them. They were entering the restoration now; light was swirling around them faster and brighter with each word, wind was whipping their hair as they closed their eyes and called for the return of Doyle's corporal form.

Cordelia struggled to focus on the steadily brightening orb or light that was encasing Doyle and his circle, the white light growing steadily more intense as it raged around him like a storm, blocking him from view completely.

Willow turned and looked at her purposefully, her eyes swirling with that same white light as she nodded that it was time. Cordelia needed to bid his return, the soul that was bound to her life was hers to command. The words fell from her lips effortlessly as she stared at his circle, recalling his face, his scent and warmth, his smile and voice…with one final word uttered in the strange language the room erupted in light. Loud claps of what sounded like thunder filled the air, impacting the air violently as it crackled with magic.

The others quickly fled the platform, the howling wind growing too severe and threatening to throw them to the floor below. Angel had just reached the bottom stair when the first agonized scream reached his ears. His chest constricted painfully and he spun back to watch the orb of light flashing as if a lightening storm was raging within it. Doyle's shrieks made him clench his teeth, he knew what was going on behind that shield and hoped Cordelia wouldn't figure it out.

Over the chaos of the spell he heard the door burst open and turned to it, his eyes wide and terrified.

_Not now…they were too close…not now…_

"We've got company!" Gunn called, racing inside with about twenty of his guys and screaming to Angel as they barred the doors. "My crew is gonna hold them off as long as they can – but they aren't playing around, it's not just vamps. There's some freaky shit going on out there. Your girls better _move!_"

Willow and Tara's voices were echoing through the building, laced with those of countless others and crying out for Doyle's return.

The battle poured in through the doorway within moments, enveloping them as Angel and the others protected the platform.

The light slowly receded, the magic releasing an unconscious and unclothed Doyle, leaving him to fall heavily to the floor at the center of his circle. Cordelia's heart was in her throat, _he was here, he was __**real**__, why wasn't he awake? What was wrong? _The thought alone made her take an involuntary step toward him only to stop dead in her tracks – her eyes going to the circle that encased her and ensuring that she hadn't wandered beyond its boundaries. She needed to wait for Willow and Tara's signal that it was safe before she could go to him. Desperately she sought out Willow and for the first time she saw the army of vampires and demons clashing around the platform, her hand went to her mouth to muffle a sob and she prayed for the girls to hurry. She could hear Angel screaming for Willow to leave the protection in place, not to break the spell yet and collapsed to her knees, staring at Doyle in panic. She wanted to feel his heart beating, to watch his chest rising and falling, to see with her own eyes that there was life in him.

It was Giles who made the decision; the odds were against them, if they kept at it any longer without some serious backup they weren't going to have a chance. He screamed for Puck, waiting for the demon to look over at him before nodding to him meaningfully. Giles closed his eyes and took a deep breath, waiting for one of the vampires to test their luck. Within seconds one had knocked him to the ground, pinning him in place and moving in for the kill…

And just that quickly the change came in Puck. His towering form nearly reached the ceiling and he instantly released a ball of hellfire, its heat rendering the vamp to ash on impact.

Suddenly the odds weren't so bad.

The battle raged on, now louder and brighter, Willow and Tara had discovered that they were able to assist while remaining inside the protection of the spelled platform. Between the bursts of magic they were releasing and the explosions of Puck's life-repossessing flames the sounds were nearly deafening.

Cordelia tried to keep her eyes on Doyle unblinkingly but had to flinch and cover her ears whenever the binding spell let off warning bolts of power, a shield becoming visible around them as it incinerated any of the intruders that tried to reach the platform. She'd never regretted being a regular every day human so much as she did in that moment. Were she a demon, a vampire with a soul, a witch, a werewolf, _anything_ other than herself she could have been fighting to keep Doyle safe. She ignored the fact that she'd still be stuck within the confines of her circle no matter what she was, it was maddening to feel so helpless.

A quick glance around to gauge the current state of her surroundings found that the building was now ablaze beyond the safety of the spell. She looked up hopefully when she caught movement racing toward her, seeing Willow stopping between the circles and throwing her head back.

"_Aloth ca'hut finitay!_" Willow screamed and the world went white for a fraction of a second; blindingly, blisteringly, painfully white.

Cordelia's eyes had barely recovered and she was racing forward, with the spells down the full weight of the situation at hand was settling upon her. She could smell the smoke, see that the power was out and the only light that remained was from the flames. Her heart was in her throat, a few more feet and she'd be able to touch him…

Part of her was waiting, _knowing_ that he would disappear the instant she reached him, that fate would play a cruel joke on her and this would all have been for nothing…

But tears poured over her face and sobs escaped her when, unlike the dreams she'd had of this, warm flesh actually met warm flesh. The world around them was falling down but she didn't care, grabbing him and drawing him into her arms, pressing her face to his and feeling his breath against her cheek as she ran her hands through his beautiful dark hair and rocked him.

_Doyle was alive.  
Doyle was flesh and blood and warmth and reality, beating heart and soft skin_.

She felt a blanket being tossed over him but didn't look up, didn't relax her hold as she felt hands pulling on her shoulders from behind. She could hear Angel's voice and that was all that mattered. _Angel was there, he would protect them if she followed._ He was picking Doyle up now, leaving her to cling to him as the hands on her shoulders urged her forward. All she could do was cry and touch Doyle, whisper to him, _feel_ him.

They loaded her into the back of a van and she didn't even care who it belonged to, they had rested Doyle on the floor and it was all that was important. Wherever he went she was going to follow.

The door slid closed, tires screeched as they were driven away from the chaos and she lay beside him, kissing his face as she cried and held him close.

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**If you read it, FEED it! :D **


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER 15**

She didn't even know the names of the men that carried Doyle up the stairs to her apartment, heard Angel calling out questions to the others as his car screeched to a halt beside the van but it didn't matter. None of it mattered. The only thing she was worried about was the motionless form of Doyle; her living, breathing Doyle who had yet to stir.

Gunn's men carried him into her bedroom, casting one another worried looks as lights came on and doors opened for them from the time they'd entered the apartment. Dennis was as excited about this as anyone else and wasn't making any efforts to keep his presence discrete. He pulled back the covers and watched in amazement as the man who'd been a ghostly companion to him for so many months was laid across the mattress in his corporal form. He was too happy for Cordelia and Doyle to even begin to feel jealous, had seen her grieve for those weeks before Doyle's spirit had followed her home from work one day and knew what this meant for her.

Cordelia climbed up beside him in the bed, curling herself around his side and crying, kissing his cheek as she whispered pleadingly to him. Dennis covered him up with the comforter and pulled the blanket out from around him, tossing it over a nearby chair and leaving Gunn's men with the decision that it was very definitely time to leave this freaky ass apartment.

Angel rushed in past them, muttering his thanks as they left and hurrying to the side of the bed.

"Has he said anything yet?" He asked and sat down beside Doyle, staring with wide, tear-filled eyes at the face of his friend for the first time in so many months. He held his hand and took the opportunity to check his pulse, _strong and steady…_he couldn't believe this was real_._

Giles and an exhausted looking Willow and Tara raced into the room, Wesley hot on their trail and all of them stopping dead in their tracks taking in the sight of the stranger lying on the bed.

"_No_." Cordelia sobbed, still pressing her lips to his temple. "He's not waking up, Angel…_why isn't he waking up?_"

Puck had finally caught up with the others, now standing in the doorway with a pained look in his eyes staring over at Doyle's motionless body.

"It's just…these things take time…right?" Angel asked as he cast a beseeching look over his shoulder to the group watching Doyle with worried eyes. "_Right?"_ He repeated, finding their hesitance to answer extremely disheartening.

"Oh sure…he just…is probably tired." Tara offered weakly as she squeezed Willow's hand.

"Yeah. I mean, coming back to life has to be draining." Willow assured but the looks the girls gave Giles and Wesley made Angel realize all too well that this wasn't what they'd expected.

"Keep him comfortable. I'll be right back…and…let me know if he wakes up while I'm gone, okay?" Angel asked and watched Cordelia nod slightly. He doubted she'd notice anyone coming or going until Doyle gave an indication that he was alright. Even then he knew he'd likely have to wait a week for the two to stop clinging to one another before he'd get to see his friend but he wanted to _get_ to that point. They seemed to have hit an unexpected standstill and he needed answers. He climbed from the bed and motioned for the others to follow him, closing the door behind them and leading them out into the living room. "Alright, somebody start talking to me." He said in a low whisper, his eyes imploringly passing from one face to the next.

"I'm afraid I'm not certain what's going on." Giles said fretfully.

"He really shouldn't be tired." Willow confessed meekly. "I mean, he's got a new body – like _just made_. It shouldn't need to rest already; the draining part is the _making, _not the becoming."

Angel cast her a wounded look, he'd gotten so wrapped up here that he had forgotten how exhausted the girls must be. Taking the time to pay attention he found the looks on her and Tara's faces confirmed that they were having difficulty just staying upright and walked over to the couch, tossing pillows aside and motioning for them to come rest. "I'm sorry…I just…" He began softly.

"Hey…it's okay, we know." Tara assured him as she sank down onto the couch beside Willow.

Angel turned away from them, not directing his questions to them and hoping they wouldn't feel the need to answer. "Why wouldn't he be waking up? What could have gone wrong?" He asked, struggling to stay calm but already knowing the possible answers. The men remained silent for a moment and he clenched his teeth. "Don't sugarcoat this for me, damn it; I need to know what we might be dealing with here."

"It is possible…" Wesley began hesitantly. "That somehow his body was restored and his soul was not successfully bound to it."

"Meaning _what?_ We've got a frigging _shell_ in there; a coma patient for the rest of that body's life?" He asked in a loud whisper as he pointed in the direction of the bedroom and immediately felt nauseous at the prospect. He was struggling to keep his emotions in check but this was too much to deal with. How could this have happened? They'd researched everything so carefully – he knew Willow and Tara had done everything correctly. So _what?_ What was wrong? And how the _hell_ was he supposed to tell Cordelia that now she'd have a living reminder of the man she'd lost that couldn't communicate with her as opposed to the ghost of him that had been able to?

No one wanted to speak up, they knew how difficult this was for him and could see in his eyes that he was close to losing it.

Puck finally took a deep breath and a shaky step forward, trying not to be too afraid of getting his ass kicked for the effort. "Well his soul ain't hovering around here no more, Angel…" Puck began and held up his hands defensively as Angel spun to face him, his eyes were wild and tear-filled and Puck said a silent prayer before continuing. "_Whoa – easy, _big guy – but maybe that's a good thing; just…just hear me out. That necklace is still in a fully functional way but he's not here, if he was still around I'd be able to see him. Since I don't he _should_ be inside that body. Now I know a guy I can ask a favor of – he and Doyle knew one another and the guy always liked our boy, said he had a 'soulful and honest voice' when he sang."

"_Sang?_" Angel asked in horrified surprise and Puck laughed.

"Yeah, _sang_. See this guy's an empath demon – gets readings from people when they sing but can do it a few other ways as well. Owns a karaoke bar in the district and you know there ain't a place serves alcohol in this city Doyle wasn't a regular at." Puck said with a smirk. "So anyway, just stay calm, don't get yourself all worked up and I'll bring him over to see if he can help us. If he can't figure it out he can sure as hell send us on to someone that can."

Angel chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, nodding for Puck to go ahead and make whatever phone calls he needed to make.

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	16. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER 16**

Lorne took off his shades and beamed like a ray of sunshine as the door opened, smiling ear to ear at Puck and pulling him in for a hug as he rambled excitedly. "Look at _you_, sweet-tart! Oh, it's been _ages_ – where've you been? Not at the club, I can tell ya that much. Honestly – you don't call, you don't write, I just start wondering whether you were swallowed up into a hell dimension and voila! Like magic you're inviting me over for drinks. So, new place? Nice neighborhood, by the way – then again anywhere's better than the dive you were at before, am I right? Now, not that I'm opposed to the idea but I am curious – I mean since it isn't the anniversary or his birthday or St. Patrick's Day – what brought on this sudden decision to drink to the memory of my favorite little Irish…?" He stopped short as he entered the apartment, taking in the room full of morose faces and wincing as he set his bag of party supplies on the floor. "_Whoa_, what's with the posse of pouting pusses? Looks like you just dragged me into a funeral parlor or something." He laughed nervously.

Puck closed the door behind him, crossing his arms over his chest and stepping up beside the Host.

Lorne swallowed hard getting the distinct impression he hadn't been brought over here for rounds of whisky, sea-breezes and reminiscing about the little half-Brachen he missed so much. He spoke under his breath to Puck. "Okay, need I remind you of the relevant part of the phrase: '_empath_ demon'? This place is about an incurable disease shy of the misery a _Lifetime_ movie leaves you with. I don't know about you but I'm…" He trailed off when he saw someone new entering the room, a smile suddenly coming to his face as he was momentarily distracted from his complaining. "Well what do we have here? _Love_ the coat, babe…and you wear it indoors, too? A man after my heart. It's all about the coat, you know." Angel arched a brow and cast a skeptical look at Puck as Lorne approached for a closer inspection, shrinking away as the demon continued to ramble. "How fabulous would _I look_ in this coat, I mean seriously? You have to give me the name of your tailor, just look at the way it hangs off you…this is the work of an attire aficionado…"

"I don't…have a tailor…" Angel confessed self-consciously. "I just…mend my own clothes."

"Cute _and_ handy with the domestic tasks? Aren't you just a diamond in the roughneck?" Lorne teased with a grin as he swatted him in the chest playfully and Angel winced, casting Puck a pleading look.

"Lorne, I got something I need you to take a look at." Puck cut in.

With a curled lip he turned to face Puck, holding up his hands and shaking his head. "_No, no_ snooker-doodle, how about we just skip the show and tell I give you the same advice as the last demon – I'm no doctor but I'd recommend ointments and a _serious_ look at your life path from here on out."

Willow and Tara muffled their laughter and Puck sighed as he grabbed Lorne by the elbow, ushering him toward the bedroom while he continued to protest.

"Can't we talk about this? I'm not really the house-call type, you know? You want me to read you just come to the club and sing like everyone…" The second the door opened Lorne stopped talking, moving, blinking and _breathing_. "How in the…" He whispered, looking at the familiar face of the man in bed with a weeping brunette plastered to his side.

"We resurrected him, he had an amulet of binding made before he died and we were able to bring him back with it." Angel explained as Lorne continued staring, slack-jawed at Doyle.

"_Doylie-kins_…oh my little Irish _creampuff_, it's really him!" Lorne whimpered as he ventured closer. "I haven't seen him in forever, he stopped coming to the club after I helped him figure out what those visions were asking him to…_wait a minute_." He said, turning and pointing at Angel as he recognized him suddenly. "You're the _guy_. You're the vamp with a soul he had to help, am I right?"

Angel looked at him in surprise. "Umm…yeah, I'm Angel. So wait, Doyle used to come to you to…?"

Lorne nodded and cut in. "He'd been a regular long before the Powers decided to start broadcasting into his brain, once they hit he was all kinds of confused so we used to talk about them. He needed someone neutral to ask advice since, you know, having visions isn't exactly the kinda thing you just go tell on the mountain. While his was a more painful version what he used to receive was a lot like what I get when I read people – and since he was always so adorable I took the little scamp under my wing. See after that first vision they started hammering him just about every day for weeks on end, we tried to put the pieces together. Took a month to understand all the things he got, two hundred plus years of a life story takes a while to cram into visions but finally it all led to you." Lorne's bottom lip stuck out as he looked back at Doyle again, remembering the day he'd heard that he'd been killed. It had been inevitable but still, entirely too soon.

"Angel?" Cordelia said softly as she looked up for the first time and spotted the sharply dressed, extremely _green_ demon standing in the doorway.

"Lorne, this is Cordelia…and she'd be Doyle's little princess." Puck said and watched him slowly cross the room to reach her.

"Hey there, sweetness." Lorne said softly, gazing down at her with sympathetic eyes and squeezing her hand. "So what's…?" He turned back to Puck and Angel. "Why am I here? I mean bringing Doyle back would be reason enough to call me…but judging by the somber tone around here I'm guessing there's more to this story."

"He…he won't wake up." Cordelia choked out and he turned back to face her. Her voice was cracking as she looked up at the stranger with the understanding eyes. "He's alive and breathing but…he just won't _wake up_ for me." She told him with tears streaming down her face and Lorne felt like his heart was going to break for her. "_Help him?_" She whispered desperately before she broke down again and it did him in.

"Oh, no, no, no – don't cry pumpkin! _Shh_…it's alright… Uncle Lorne's here to try his best to make it all better." He soothed, sitting beside her on the bed and rubbing her back. He sighed as he looked over at Doyle's face; for him it was strange to see without that perpetual five o'clock shadow, bags under his eyes but a smile still set on his face despite it all. He'd told Doyle what he could about the path he was taking, remembered it like it was yesterday:

* * *

"_So what now? I just go marching off to find a vamp with a history of tearin out throats and say, 'hey – I'm your designated seer so do a fella a favor and don't make with the fangs'?" Doyle scoffed once they finished working out the meanings of his visions, the two of them were sitting at the bar together long after all the other patrons were gone. It had become normal for Doyle to be at Caritas even afterhours since all this started. _

"_Just be your usual charming self and you'll be fine." Lorne assured him with a smile as he waved down the bartender for refills. _

"_Not that I don't trust your judgment but I'd say 'fine' is in the eye of the potential appetizer, my friend. Do I get a say in any of this?" He asked apprehensively. _

"_Of course you do, my little lamb. There is a thing called free will, after all. You have the option of ignoring them and eventually they'll go away…" Doyle looked up hopefully at that and Lorne shook his head. "But you need to keep in mind that this is the Powers That Be giving you your one shot at redemption." He told him. Seeing the way Doyle shifted uncomfortably he pressed further. "That's right, I said redemption; you're not going to fool __**me**__ of all people into thinking you aren't suffering over what happened and wanting to make it right. This is the Powers offering you a chance to do exactly that. You have two choices here – ready?" He asked, waiting for Doyle to kill off his whisky and nod. "The first is to say 'to hell with those Powers, what do they know?'. Take that route and you can spend your life miserable and safe, well – moderately safe given your little gambling habit." He said, giving a disapproving look as Doyle smirked. "Or you can take door number two and try to work toward your atonement. That path? Eh, not so big on the safety…but there is a potential for happiness there, that much I can tell you." _

"_Any chance of tha happiness coming by way of beautiful damsels…with loose morals?" Doyle asked with a hopeful grin. _

"_Don't you just wish it, kitten." Lorne laughed and bumped him with his shoulder. "'Happiness' is all I can say. So you have to decide: a lifetime without servitude to a higher purpose wracked with your present misery and guilt – or a more perilous path of doing right, with the possibility of bright spots to improve your current life at the bottom of a bottle." Lorne offered. _

* * *

He took a deep breath as his memories faded; advising a friend of something you knew would lead to their demise was never a pleasant experience. Then again Doyle's paths had been clear, A) _atonement + happiness + friendship = eventual noble death/redemption_ or B) _loneliness + self-hatred + whisky__2__ + bad gambling debts = eventual meaningless death/no go on the redemption_. He'd had a heavy heart since Doyle walked away that night, hoping against hope that life would be better for such a good man even if it could only last a little while.

With a sigh he looked over at the brunette he'd seen in his reading all that time ago, _Doyle's happiness_, and continued to rub her back soothingly. "So I'm checking to see if anybody's home?" Lorne asked the men standing by the doorway.

"That's pretty much it." Puck agreed.

Lorne looked over at Angel where he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl set on his face – defensive posture if he'd ever seen one. He could sense how distraught the vamp was, how desperate he was to hear that his friend was okay. Lorne was glad the two had bonded as closely as he'd seen the potential for. With a sigh he turned back to face Doyle. "Alright, but I'm not sure if this'll work – never tried to read someone in their sleep before." He said, hoping that was all this was.

Cordelia moved higher on the bed so that she wouldn't be in Lorne's way, watching him with hopeful eyes as he leaned forward and put his hands on Doyle's temples.

"_Come on, buddy…talk to me_…" He muttered, reaching out for any trace of Doyle's soul. "_Give me that brogue…_" Minutes ticked by and despite knowing the answer almost immediately he'd stayed connected for two reasons. Firstly he didn't want to be accused of 'not trying hard enough'. Secondly he was really, _really_ not looking forward to saying this. Releasing his hold on Doyle he sighed and reluctantly looked over at the soulful brown eyes that were gazing at him pleadingly. "Where ever he is…it's not in there." He said softly.

"_What?_" Cordelia sobbed, recoiling as if she'd been slapped. "How is that possible? We did everything right, didn't we? _Angel?_" She asked as she started to break down.

"We did, Cordelia. We really did." Angel said, trying not to let her see the tears that were forming in his eyes as he walked over beside the bed.

"Oh God…_oh God_…he asked me not to do it…" She bawled and Lorne quickly stood and stepped aside as Angel sat on the bed and pulled her to his chest. "He told me I might screw this up for him and I _did!_ No…_no, no, no_…I sent him to the afterlife, Angel – and he said he wasn't ready! What did I _do?_"

Lorne's brows drew together as her increasingly hysterical state made her aura a little clearer for him and he spun to face Puck. "Is she connected to him somehow?" He asked.

"What do you mean?" Puck said distractedly, unable to tear his eyes from the painful sight of Cordelia grieving.

Lorne snapped his fingers in front of Puck's face impatiently. "Focus! _Cordelia_, is she linked to Doyle's soul somehow?"

"Umm…" Puck began, a bit taken aback by the unfamiliar sound of Lorne speaking seriously. "Sure, there's that amulet – binds his soul to it and her."

"Hey you – tall, dead and heroic…" Lorne called and Angel looked up at him in disbelief, partly at the description, partly that he wanted him to focus on something _other_ than Cordelia right then. "Does she have the amulet?"

"Yes…" Angel managed to get out before Lorne was rushing over to him and pulling Cordy away enough to look down into her eyes.

"I need you to sing for me." Lorne urged her.

"What? _Why?_" She sobbed as she struggled to breathe.

"Because I can feel him, it's faint but I can sense him…_somewhere_…it's not clear enough. I need you to sing." Lorne insisted but seeing the confusion on her face he elaborated. "I read people's souls when they sing, so make with the crooning!"

"Sing what?" She asked, staring up at him with wide eyes.

"_Anything_ – I don't care if it's a jingle for _feminine hygiene products_, cupcake – just sing me _something!_" Lorne said, afraid that he'd lose the trace of Doyle he'd picked up on.

Cordelia looked down at Doyle, her lips trembling as a song came to mind and without thought she was singing it in a trembling, soul-bearing voice. "_My funny valentine…sweet, comic valentine…you make me smile with my heart_…_Your looks are laughable…un-photographable…yet you're my favorite work of art..._" She sniffled as tears rolled down her nose and fell to the bed, holding his hand tightly and no longer paying attention to anyone else in the room as she played out memories of him in her mind. "_Is your figure…less than Greek? Is your mouth…a little weak? When you open it to speak…are you smart? Are you smart? But don't…change a hair for me…not if you care for me and…stay, little valentine…stay, little valentine, stay…each day is Valentine's Day…" _

Lorne was staring at her in shock for a moment after she'd stopped, not snapping out of it until Puck smacked his arm.

"So? What's the verdict?" Puck asked.

"_Interesting choice of words_." Lorne breathed in a daze. "First off, Cordelia that was beautiful – seriously. You need to start coming to the club and bewitching me on a regular basis. Secondly…" He turned his attention to Angel. "You guys did everything right…but now it's completely out of our hands."

"Why? What's going on?" Angel asked worriedly.

"Well there's a meeting going on right now in the realm of the big boys upstairs. Topic of discussion? Our favorite little messenger over there." Lorne told him with a sigh. "He's standing before the judgment…nothing we can do but wait and see how it turns out."

"What the _hell_, last time they pulled him into one of these things it took _weeks!_" Puck griped as he threw his hands up in the air. "Ain't he been through enough? What are the Powers jumping in for now? He did his part, made the noble sacrifice – that's supposed to be it, sentence served."

"You're preaching to the congregation, the conductor _and_ the choir, babe. Unfortunately, not everyone would agree with us on that." Lorne said bitterly.

* * *

**If you read it, FEED it! :D **


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER 17**

"_Alright, what gives? I got places to be, ya know!" Doyle yelled into the darkness that surrounded him and the flaming pit he'd awoken beside. The blackness stretched on to oblivion in all directions, so dense that it swallowed the light of the fire after just a few feet. There was no time in this place, he could have been here for hours, days, years…there was no way to tell. The thought of that alone kept him screaming into the nothingness to occupy himself. "Any of you by chance ever taken a good look at Cordy? I'd say I'm a few mass murders shy of deserving to be pulled away from her twice!"_

'_Does it fulfill the requirements?'  
'Does it reach its goal?'_

_The entwined voices of several beings suddenly thundered through the infinite space around him and he covered his ears at the pain of hearing them so closely. "It damned well does! What's the hold up now?" He called back angrily. _

'_Did it know this would come to pass?'_

_Doyle looked around himself in confusion. "Did it know WHAT would come to pass? What are you all going on about?" He complained before gasping as he felt them searching his soul for the answers. The sensations that coursed through him flashed back and forth from burning and freezing, rendering him unable to speak or move until they released him. He fell face-first into the darkness, finding something that resembled a dirt floor there and groaning as he crawled back up to his knees. "That does it. If this is the way you treat your messengers you can forget about me doin any recruiting for you, I can tell ya tha." He called out, knowing they were currently paying his words no attention. _

'_It did not know this path would be taken.'  
'Its sacrifice is not void'  
'Its atonement is reached.'_

_Doyle looked around the darkness in understanding as he hauled himself back onto his feet. They'd been worrying that he'd only made his sacrifice to get off the hook; that he'd planned all along to be brought back. He could see how that would have made the act of giving his life considerably less noble. "Right, it didn't know this would happen – was happy with being a spirit but the cards, for once, unexpectedly played out in its favor. So what's the verdict then?" He asked. _

'_It is released from its fealty.'  
'It is no longer bound as messenger.'_

"_So…no more visions?" He called out hopefully into the nothingness. "And Cordy, she won't have to worry about none of tha from now on, right?" He asked and waited in silence. _

'_The messenger remains.'  
'The Champion maintains its link.'_

"_**What**__?" He screamed in disbelief. "What the hell do you mean? She __**keeps**__ them?" He demanded angrily and received no response. "They were never her burden to bear – I'm the one was working towards redemption, she's done nothing to deserve them!" _

'_The messenger is willing.'_

"_I don't give a bleeding DAMN if she's willing to carry'em or not! I'm not gonna stand by and let her suffer while I…" He stopped mid-sentence and looked around himself in realization. _

_Had there been a wall anywhere in sight he'd have punched it. Son of a bitch! _

"_I don't __**believe**__ this! You conniving, sneaky, manipulative, meddlesome higher beings!" He growled, realizing he'd been set up. After a moment he threw his hands up in the air. "Fine. I'm your boy again – sign me up – but this time for no other reason than love cuz we're even now, damn it. Slate's been wiped clean, yeah?" He asked, pointing out into the darkness with a rueful glare._

'_It consents to return as messenger?'  
'It wishes to serve as the Champion's link once more?'_

"_Yeah, 'it consents' – but it's feeling a hell of a lot like it was __**duped**__." Doyle said bitterly. All that time he'd been under the false belief that enduring the visions was like a sentence he was serving, one that would eventually be finished and he'd be free to go on with his life. It turned out the real sentence was his guilt; the only end to it was to willingly suffer in order to help others. He'd done it before and he'd damned sure do it for Cordelia now – she was very definitely at the top of the list of 'others' he'd suffer for. _

'_It is done.'_

_Doyle stood, blinking and looking around the darkness impatiently. Minutes ticked by and he finally growled in frustration. "Umm…aren't you forgetting something?" He called out to them. "Not exactly doing much good to anyone floating around here in never-never-land…" _

_With all the impact of a 2x4 to the chest swung by an extremely pissed off demon (and hey, he'd know) he was thrown backward. The world around him faded away as he fell for what seemed like an eternity. _

* * *

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	18. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER 18**

_He felt dizzy as the feeling of falling was slowly replaced by that of a soft mattress beneath him. Disoriented and confused he gradually became aware of his surroundings and the sensations coursing through him._

_There were people in the room around him, a vampire…  
Wait, he knew that vamp…_

_Two demons…  
He knew them, as well… _

_Someone was humming beside him softly, their fingers were running through his hair and lips were pressed against his temple. The scent of her filled him with the memories of everything that had led to this point._

_Cordelia…_

_He fought not to smile, staying still and waiting for_…

"Hey, you guys want to go grab a drink? I'd kill for a sea-breeze." Lorne offered as he quickly climbed to his feet. Puck stood with him, more than ready to do something to distract his mind.

"I don't drink." Angel said quietly, his words earning a skeptical look from his recent whisky downing companion. He avoided Puck's eyes, keeping his locked on Doyle.

"I'd say all you _do_ is drink, Angel-food." Lorne said with a smirk. "Fine, be a spoiled sport – but you should probably grab something non-alcoholic for little sister over there, all that crying? She's bound to have dehydrated herself."

It had the desired effect, Angel climbed to his feet with a look of realization on his face. Lorne was right; Cordelia must be hungry and thirsty by now and be too involved in watching over Doyle to pay it any attention. It had been what? He glanced over at the clock. Almost 17 hours since they'd gotten back to the apartment – he was seriously dropping the ball on looking after Cordy. "Yeah…you're right." Angel said distractedly, leaving the bedroom behind Puck.

Lorne cast Doyle's motionless face a knowing smile before shutting the door.

After a moment Cordelia looked up and found that they were alone, or rather, _she_ was alone since Doyle wasn't really here. She sniffled and gazed down at him, turning his face toward her slightly. "I'm so sorry, Doyle." She whispered to him. "I just wanted you back…I didn't mean to mess this up for us…" Her voice broke and she wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I miss your eyes." She said softly. "I miss looking into your eyes and getting that feeling, you know – the butterflies. I just wanted that back so much." She leaned down to him, kissing his lips sweetly.

It took her mind a moment to process the feeling of being pulled closer, of him kissing her deeply and wrapping his arms around her, drawing her to his chest as he sat up and leaned back against the pillows.

Her eyes went wide as he pulled away, letting her stare at him in stunned surprise for a second before she was squeezing him and sobbing between frantic kisses. He smiled and laughed, managing softly, "Hey there, princess."

"Your back! You're really, _really_ back!" Cordelia said in astonishment.

"And really, _really_ not wearing any clothes it would seem." He said in amusement as he lifted the covers enough to verify the feeling of marked nudity, with a laugh he tucked the blankets under his arms – unsure of who'd be popping through the door at any moment but having a good indication of who'd be first. "So it appears you've gotten your way, love. This looks very much like the bed I was informed needed my presence in a non-ghostly fashion."

Cordelia grinned at him and pressed a kiss to his mouth as she draped her arms over his shoulders. "You'll be spending a great deal of time in it, buster – trust me. You've got some _serious_ consoling to do for leaving me for so many months."

"_Ooh_, gotta love the sound of tha…" He whispered into her ear and Cordy nearly melted. He was _real_ – as in flesh and blood and warmth and accent and blue eyes sparkling with pervy thoughts and _apparently_ more than ready to…

"Cordy?" Angel called worriedly as he pushed the door open; the sounds of her voice had drawn him and he froze as he took in the scene before him.

With all the effectiveness of a bucket of ice water his presence dissolved any hopes the two were forming about squeezing in a celebratory quickie.

"_Angel_, man!" Doyle said with a grin, his eyes going wide as the vamp rushed over and swept him up into a hug without warning. Cordelia cracked up, having moved aside in the nick of time and noting that Angel all but yanked Doyle up off the bed with the amount of force he'd used to seize him. "Whoa – easy with the grip there, bud!" He laughed in surprise.

Angel was too relieved to care; he continued his crushing grip for a moment in silence with his face hidden from view over Doyle's shoulder, struggling to keep his emotions in check. Doyle smiled in understanding as he felt Angel's chest quaking with sobs he'd never allow himself to voice. He hugged him back just as tightly, clapping him on the back and resting his chin on the shoulder that was all but choking him. He was every bit as relieved to be back as Angel was to have him here. "_I missed you, too, my friend_." He assured him quietly, gripping the back of Angel's head as the vamp nodded, currently unable to voice a response.

Once he managed to pull himself together Angel sniffled discretely and cleared his throat. "I can't believe it! I mean, you're…you're…_alive!_" He finally breathed happily as he pulled away enough to stare into his friend's eyes, putting a hand on the side of his face as if ensuring it was really him. Cordy grinned watching the two of them laughing and gripping each other's arms, both of them struggling to maintain their macho reps but she could see that both of them had tears in their eyes. Somehow all was right in her world again seeing these two together, happy and safe; it was the way it was supposed to be. They were a family again.

"Alive and needing some clothes, as it happens – you think maybe you could help me out with tha before…?" Doyle began but it was too late.

"My little Irish creampuff!" Lorne called, swooping in the second Angel stood from the bed.

Angel tried desperately not to laugh at the pleading looks Doyle was casting over Lorne's shoulder at him or the way he was mouthing, 'Clothes. _Now_.'

"Oh I never thought I was going to see you again! How are you feeling now that you're suddenly…?" He released him from the hug but paused and smirked. "Whoa, that is an _impressive_ amount of chest hair, my dear. Who needs shirts with insulation like that, am I right?" Lorne rambled and Doyle winced, trying to pull the blankets up higher. "At least Cordelia's not gonna have to worry about staying warm if we get hit with an unexpected cold front. And _ink_, too?" He gasped in surprise, leaning in to inspect the tattoos before Angel saved the day.

"Here! Got you something to put on, better hurry though – you've got a bunch of people who want to see you." Angel called as he tossed the shirt and pants on the bed and ushered Lorne out of the room by an elbow.

"So happy you're home, strudel!" Lorne called as Angel pulled him along, blowing Doyle and Cordy each a kiss. "Get out here quick – this is definitely cause to celebrate and we've got booze!" He added before Angel rolled his eyes and reached past him to shut the door.

"Who _**is**_ he?" Cordelia laughed.

"Lorne? A good friend and a great guy…if a little unconcerned with matters of personal space." Doyle said with a smirk.

"Hmm…who does _that_ remind me of?" Cordelia mused as she handed him the clothes and crossed her arms over her chest, a mischievous smile set on her lips.

Doyle shifted awkwardly. "_So_…you're not going anywhere while I get changed, I gather." He said and she shook her head. "Is this about me…?"

"Being a perverted poltergeist that got more than his fair share of free shows out of me?" She offered.

"_Right_…hey, I was just trying to keep myself in good spirits." He told her with a grin as he grudgingly climbed from the bed.

She watched him appraisingly as he dressed, keeping her silence until he was getting ready to button the shirt. "Alright, I've seen enough – we can send you back." She said with a dismissive wave, trying to keep a straight face as he gave her a mock wounded look.

Laughing became impossible to avoid when he rushed her and wrestled her down on the bed. "_Really_, now?" He asked as she laughed, kissing her throat and listening to her breathing become ragged, her body trembling at the wonderfully new feeling of having him on top of her in bed. "Well I guess I'll just be on my way then." He said with a sigh of feigned disappointment, starting to climb off of her before she latched on.

"Wait…I've reconsidered." She said with a grin.

Those blue eyes burned into hers, twinkling with wicked thoughts. "Do you have _any_ idea how much trouble you're in come tonight, love?" He asked with a smirk and an arched brow.

"Ooh I really, really hope I _don't_." She said, kissing him deeply and swatting him on the butt. "Now stand up before we never make it out of here."

* * *

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	19. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER 19**

"Puck, ya little rat bastard!" Doyle called before the two were hugging and laughing.

"It's about time someone around here _other_ than me has to see your ugly face." Puck told him. "Powers pulled you into a conference, huh?"

"Yeah, the usual nonsense – higher beings, what can ya do?" Doyle said with a grin. "So I was led to believe if I came out here there'd be booze."

"Here ya go." Lorne said, passing him a glass. "You're lucky I brought the single malt – I thought we were going to be toasting your memory and felt it was only appropriate. Speaking of, now that you're back you _will_ be coming to the club on a regular basis again, right? I gotta tell ya, I didn't realize how much scotch you consumed until you stopped coming. I had to cut my usual stock order down to a _third_."

Doyle shook his head. "Christ, we can't have tha."

"Make sure you bring your little songbird here with you, too – she sang for me earlier and this much is clear, the girl's not lacking the talent or the confidence." Lorne said, bumping his shoulder against Cordy's.

"I can't say I've ever heard her sing before." Doyle said in surprise, smirking over at her. "Which settles it; we'll be coming around for sure now."

Puck laughed. "Good – means I'll finally get my bar-buddy back, along with an infinitely better looking addition to the fun. Maybe with you on Doyle's arm another hot chick will suddenly find me approachable." He said, winking over at Cordelia. "And hey, speaking of whisky supplies that are running dry I'd like to point out that Cordy had a bottle all ready to go for you – it's just that Angel and I already drained it during your little confrontation the other night. Gonna need to restock soonish."

"Well, well, well – Mr. '_I don't drink'_." Lorne teased and Angel shifted guiltily. "I trust you'll be coming by with these three, right?"

"I don't sing." Angel said flatly.

"_Trust me_, bud. He _doesn't_." Doyle assured Lorne, cringing and shuddering at the memory. "I've heard him once or twice and don't recommend the experience." He said, grinning at Angel who, instead of taking offense to his warning, gave him an appreciative smile for getting him off the hook.

"Wow, with an introduction like that I'll just have to take your word for it." Lorne laughed. "But you can still come listen to Irish eyes over here – he's _quite_ the little crooner."

Angel and Cordelia arched intrigued brows and slowly looked over at Doyle. He fidgeted awkwardly at the idea of singing in front of either of them and avoided making eye contact.

"It's true." Puck said with an impressed nod.

"Is that right?" Angel said, turning to face Doyle and smirking. "Well, maybe I'll stop by after all."

Clearing his throat Doyle desperately sought to change the subject. "So, where are the girls?" He asked before tossing back the contents of his glass.

"In the living room, they're both pretty tired but I think they'll…" Angel began, him and Doyle just turning to go to them when Doyle was pounced by two inbound gleeful witches.

"_Whoa!_ Hey there!" He laughed as they nearly knocked him over, wrapping his arms around them as they grinned and squeezed him.

"You're alive!" Willow squealed happily over his shoulder.

"We were so worried that something went wrong!" Tara confessed and with her words their grips intensified severely.

"No, you two did everything brilliantly – just had the Powers to contend with." He shook his head and laughed as the girls continued their vice grip, gratefully noting that Cordelia didn't look annoyed in the slightest. "Thank you both, I can't tell ya how glad I am to be back. I'm getting a second chance here because of what you've done – consider me in your debt."

They finally released him, Willow beaming with pride. "And you can repay us by keeping Cordelia happy." She told him.

Doyle grinned at the instruction. "Easier said than done, my friend…but I'm more than willing to devote the necessary attention to the effort." He assured her as he winked at Cordy. "_Giles_, it's good to finally meet ya face to face, bud." He said, shaking the watcher's hand and gripping his shoulder appreciatively.

"Likewise, I'm relieved that you awoke before we had to leave – we didn't want to depart until we were sure that you were alright. I must admit I was thrilled at the prospect of your return…" Giles leaned in closer and muttered, "To say you've had a positive influence on Cordelia would be an _incredible_ understatement." Apparently it wasn't quiet enough to avoid an indignant, '_hey!_' from her.

Doyle grinned and nodded, turning to the other new faces in the room. "And Gunn, much obliged for the backup, man – couldn't have done this without you guys."

Gunn smirked as he shook Doyle's hand. "Yeah well I was kinda under the impression you're the one supposed to be keeping Angel from being such a buzz kill. Means you've got an important job to take care of and need to be breathing to do it for all our sakes."

And this time the indignant '_hey!_' was coming from Angel.

"Must confess it's a full time post preventing him from being a real _miserable_ bastard, but I'm glad to hear I'm not the only one decidedly opposed to the perpetual dark cloud." Doyle laughed.

Angel crossed his arms over his chest and scowled as his eyes passed back and forth between them, getting the unsettling feeling that having these two teaming up on him was bad news for any brooding he had scheduled in the foreseeable future.

"Wesley…" Doyle began as he turned to him and faltered slightly. He didn't particularly like the guy…but he _did_ have a hand in bringing him back to life…_so_… "Thanks for helping out, ya know with the spells and all tha." He said, shaking Wesley's hand awkwardly while Cordelia and Angel exchanged knowing smiles. Watching these two try to get along was bound to be entertaining.

"Of course, any way I can be of assistance to Angel and Cordelia…" Wesley offered just as gracelessly, not wanting his actions to be mistaken for efforts to help _Doyle_.

Doyle's arched brow, clenched jaw and purposeful _(painful) _tightening of grip at the mention of her name was not missed by Wesley.

"Oh would ya check out the posturing…" Lorne muttered as he elbowed Cordelia lightly. "Who needs the Discovery channel – our boy's a half a step away from thumping his chest and marking his territory."

Cordelia smirked and nodded, finding it excruciatingly unnecessary but at the same time absolutely adorable.

"So we ordering food or what? I'm starving and it looks like we already tapped this place out." Puck called in a muffled voice. Cordelia rolled her eyes when she turned and found him raiding her fridge _yet again_.

"Sounds good to me…what are you in the mood for, princess?" Doyle asked, stepping up behind Cordelia and wrapping his arms around her. When she turned and gave him a private smile in response to his question he grinned and kissed her cheek. "Pizza will work." He said as Puck flipped through up a stack of menus, muttering in Cordy's ear, "hopefully _quickly_…" It was an effort to get the bunch fed and out of there as early as possible.

No such luck, though; once the talking started time got away from them. The group spent the next several hours joking around; Cordelia was glued to Doyle's side the entire time. Willow and Tara were sitting close by staring at him intently which cracked him up every time he looked over at them. He tried not to find it unnerving considering he was, after all, _literally_ their latest creation. They weren't making any efforts to be discrete in their gawking, either – watching the newly reunited couple snuggling together was providing a better fluff fix than any romance movie they could rent.

When sunset rolled around Angel couldn't help but commend the two in his mind for not booting everyone out already and took it upon himself to thin the herd.

"Well I better get patrolling, you know – evil's still lurking." Angel offered as he stood and cast meaningful looks around the room.

"I hear that, done enough sitting on my butt today to last a year." Gunn said, walking over and shaking Doyle's hand. "Glad you got back alright, I'm sure we'll be seeing one another around."

"Likewise, bud." Doyle told him with a grin. "And hey, you stay safe out there, yeah?"

Gunn laughed. "Gonna try like hell."

"Thank you again – _so much. _We really appreciate all your help. Tell your guys if they ever need anything they know where to find us." Cordelia said as she shook his hand, looking at Doyle and Angel for confirmation and the two nodded their agreement.

"Thanks…" Gunn said, smiling before taking his leave at the fact that he'd apparently just unwittingly become a part of this little family unit.

Seeing the pattern here Giles stood. "We'd best be heading out as well; it's a long drive back to Sunnydale. Girls?" He called, turning and finding them staring at Doyle still. He laughed softly and shook his head. "_Do_ stop that – you're liable to give the man a complex. Go gather your things so we can be on our way."

Tara and Willow grudgingly went to Cordelia's room to grab their bags as Angel continued picking off the stragglers. His eyes settled on Puck and after a moment of trying to read Angel's expression the demon jumped to his feet in understanding. _Oh yeah, Doyle wasn't the 'can't-get-laid-guy' anymore!_

"Well me and Lorne got some catching up to do – he needs to get back to the club for the rush and since we ain't seen one another in a while he's _undoubtedly_ gonna give me complimentary drinks tonight." Puck said with a grin.

"Okay – let's not go overboard, dumpling – you or Doyle having free reign over a bar is a quick way to run a place out of business." Lorne said as he climbed to his feet and crossed the room to his newly resurrected friend. "You two crazy kids enjoy yourselves – and hey, don't be a stranger now that you're breathing again. I expect both of you to stop by and croon for me weekly." He said as he hugged them both.

"_Oh_…" Cordelia breathed in surprise before forcing a smile and nodding. "I'm sure we will." She told him, though she wasn't entirely certain of the likelihood of her _ever_ singing in front of a group of strangers.

Sensing her hesitance at the idea Doyle assured with a wink, "Don't worry; I'll get her down there one way or another." His words earned a challenging scowl from her once Lorne wasn't looking.

Puck gave Doyle a tight-gripped hug, clapping his friend on the back and sighing. "Great to have you back, man." He said quietly and Cordelia smiled hearing the honest relief in his voice.

"Great to _be_ back, my friend." Doyle told him just as quietly, the two clearing their throats and trying not to tear up as they separated.

"Bye, Doyle – you guys keep in touch. We want to hear lots of happy, fluffy, romantic stuff about you two." Willow said with a grin as her and Tara took turns hugging him and Cordelia.

"There'll be plenty of tha, I did promise the girl I'd spend the rest of my life repaying her for bringing me back – she tends to hold a man to his word, ya know." Doyle told her and she laughed.

"As such our prayers are with you." Giles told him with a smile, shaking his hand and laughing as Cordelia gave him another crushing hug. The three of them said their goodbyes and left behind Lorne and Puck.

"Wesley?" Angel called, noting that the man had yet to stop reading.

"Hmm?" He said distractedly, looking up and noticing that the apartment was suddenly quite empty.

"We're leaving." Angel told him, handing him a bag. "Grab whatever books you think you'll need for…" He looked over at Doyle and Cordy with a smirk. "A week or so?" He asked them.

Doyle grinned as Cordelia worked her way under his arm. "At the very least, my friend."

Wesley gathered his things while Angel and Doyle hugged and told one another how glad they were that he was alive again, the two of them beyond relieved that they were getting this second chance. Cordelia realized she had missed _this_ Angel – the _Doyle's friend_ Angel that had been gone for so many months. He smiled more, laughed more…was genuinely _happy_. Angel became more human when he was joking around with Doyle.

The instant the door was closed behind them Doyle and Cordelia spun to face one another, grinning mischievously.

"Dennis…" Doyle called, his eyes locked with hers as he started stalking toward her. "Do yourself a favor and avoid _any_ room Cordelia and I are in for the next few days…possibly the hall as well…"

Cordy's grin widened as she backed away with each step he took toward her.

"Did ya want a head start, love?" He asked her with a smirk and she squealed in feigned terror, turning and racing for the bedroom with him in hot pursuit.

* * *

**If you read it, FEED it! :D **


	20. Chapter 20

**EPILOGUE**

"I don't give a damn _where_ you're used to sitting, bud – it's a widely accepted fact that this is my spot."

"Be that as it may, I find my reading material and research to be a bit more pressing than the _line up for the tracks_."

"Hey – you put some fairly large coin down on one of these races and you'll see how pressing such a thing can be."

"Angel, would you please talk some sense into your seer?"

"Angel, man – would you please do something with this twit before I choke the _British_ right outta him?"

Having retreated into Angel's office when the argument started Cordelia smirked from where she was seated across from his desk, noting that he wasn't looking up from his book. "You're not going to help them out, are you?" She asked.

"Nope." Angel said as he tried to keep a straight face, turning the page and pretending he didn't hear the argument outside his door.

In a funny series of events the property owners of their previous office building had decided to rebuild with the insurance money from the explosion. Since the structure was still intact they'd just followed the original design in order to keep costs down. Once the renovations were complete Cordelia had received a letter in the mail advising them that they had first dibs on the space they used to rent and with Doyle now back it was too perfect to resist.

The original Angel Investigations was back in business, office and all, but with one additional face on the payroll then when it had first started. The couch across from her desk seemed to be a cause for continual debate and she leaned back in her chair, smiling as she watched the two continuing their battle through the window.

"You think we should just buy a second couch?" She asked, laughing at the dueling accents filtering into the office.

"Nope." Angel said, his smile widening.

"We're just gonna let them drive each other nuts?" She said.

"Pretty much, yeah." Angel said, resting the book on his chest and looking out at them through the glass. "That was my plan, anyway." He confessed as he grinned over at her.

"Uh oh, you're on – it's reached the referee part." Cordelia said and they both quickly pretended to be busy with the books they were reading.

"Do you _hear_ this?" Doyle demanded as he pushed the door to Angel's office.

"Hear what?" Angel asked innocently.

Doyle pointed at him accusingly and shook his head. "Fine, just block it out – do us both a favor and turn a blind eye when I _feed him his tie_, as well."

"Big shock here, Angel; your friend seems to be acting rashly again." Wesley said with an aggravated sigh.

"How difficult is this? I mean really? You're an egghead, how are you struggling with this? I come in, I sit on the couch, I read the paper – it's like the _tides_, man. Just go with it, can't fight the natural order of things." Doyle complained.

"Where do you propose I research for our cases then, hmm? You tell me." Wesley said angrily.

"The roof's looking better and better for you every time you open your mouth, bud." Doyle shot back and Angel and Cordelia exchanged a private smirk.

"Lovely idea, why not read your paper up there then – perhaps let the morning sun chase away your daily hangover?" Wesley asked.

Cordelia mouthed an '_ooohh'_ while Angel hid behind his book and struggled not to laugh.

"You ever tried listening to yourself, bud? Do me a favor, record your droning for five minutes – just _five bleeding minutes_ – play it back and tell me whether you're in need of a hard drink afterward. I know I sure as hell am." Doyle snapped.

"That's right, yes, let's blame the chronic alcoholism on me – because we all know it magically appeared when you and I met, certainly it wasn't a problem beforehand. I really don't know why I bother trying to have a discussion with you." Wesley said in disgust.

"Would ya look at tha – at least you and I finally agree on something! Stay off the couch and I'll happily avoid ever having to listen to your sniveling voice." Doyle called angrily as Wesley turned to walk away. "Angel, I swear to _Christ_ if he doesn't…"

The instant he trailed off Wesley reflexively spun to face him, rushing back into the office as Angel jumped up from his desk, the two of them catching Doyle as the vision hit.

"Easy now, easy…" Wesley said as they lowered him to the floor, gripping Doyle's shoulders and helping Angel to keep him steady while he convulsed.

He opened his eyes slowly after a moment, groaning and covering his face until Angel handed him his flask.

"You alright?" Angel asked worriedly.

"Yeah…I'm…yeah…I'm…fine…" Doyle began in a daze as Angel helped him sit up and lean his back against the desk.

Cordelia dropped down beside them with the bottle of Tylenol, pouring several out into her hand and offering them to Doyle sympathetically. If she'd hated seeing him get hit with the visions before she was crushed by it now, understanding all too well the agony he was going through.

Wesley stretched to retrieve a notepad and pen from the desk. "What did you see?" He asked quietly, the two bickered endlessly but the second the visions hit it seemed to push all the pettiness aside. Cordelia swore the two only fought for something to keep them entertained – though Angel had told her with a smirk that the Irishman and the Brit may have been born with an innate hatred for one another, she had no idea why that would be and never asked him to explain it.

"Big ugly demon, think it's an Emolta. Got those silver scales and green eyes, nasty teeth…did I mention _big_? It's in a restaurant down on Fifth and Erie, just regenerated and it's looking for food – by way of the patrons instead of what's on the menu." Doyle told him, clutching his head as Wesley took notes. "Best be careful round back if any of us chase him there – thing can climb buildings and likes to drop down on ya unexpected like." He warned.

"Right, any idea how to kill one of these things?" Angel asked Wesley.

"If it is in fact an Emolta – and by Doyle's description I'd say it is, its heart will be in its stomach. You'll need to pierce it with silver…disposal should be simple enough, their bodies dissolve in water." He offered.

"No muss, no fuss." Cordelia mused. "Just do me a favor and drop him somewhere _other_ than the reservoir, k? I don't want to be showering in dissolved demon for the next month, if that's alright with you."

Angel smirked and helped Doyle up onto his feet. "You ready for this?" He asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be." Doyle said as Cordelia gave him their standard post-vision hug.

"Good, let's get to work." Angel said with a grin, the four of them grabbing weapons and heading out the door.

* * *

**Well? Are we all happy and content now? LOL **

**Be sure to et me know what you think! **

**Thanks for playing along! ;) **


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